In My Own Name
by Tigerdust
Summary: A Dave-centric story. What do you become when everything else is taken away? Yourself- or the person they want you to be?
1. Chapter 1

David thought about his name as the bus turned with the road, his eyes fixed on the fleeting trail of dust the white bus left behind it- covering parts of the setting sun. The bus creaked a little with every turn, shaking and showing its age.

Karof-sky. Karof-**SKY**.

David knew his name was Polish, knew that much but had tuned his dad out when he had started talking about family heritage and genealogy and roots and all that shit. All Dave really knew was his name had the word sky at the end. Sky as in blue, sky as in freedom, sky as in….well, he had the idea pretty well captured. David knew a lot about silence too. Silence was all there seemed to be these days.

The creaking white bus was headed towards Georgia, not much time left now. David had his open bag of Twizzlers and his two bottles of Vault on the open seat next to him. There were eight other kids on the bus, but all were separated by at least two rows and David was in the back.

David Karofsky was the worst of all these sinners.

What hurt the most was not the way his mother had started bullying his father and leaving hints about David's illness all around the house or using bleach for all his clothes (including his McKinley varsity jacket, which almost didn't get rescued). Nor his dad's retreating silence. Even the fighting that hung in the air over the dinner table didn't hurt as much as what had happened. What had happened, David wondered in retrospect?

He couldn't stand to think, just let the bus ride take him silently and deeper into his own pain. This was what he deserved for the way he had treated Kurt, wasn't it? _Yeah, it was_, his own voice replied to him. _Slushies, tauntings, death threats, this is the perfect end to that road_.

And what an end it was going to be. Goodbye Lima, Goodbye possibly returning to McKinley or playing football as a Buckeye in Toledo. Hello Georgia. Hello Stone Eagle Academy.

_Sounds great, like a euphemism for some privileged rich place like Dalton, doesn't it? _Dave thought to himself, mocking himself and continuing that damn punishment that he had been giving himself ever since…ever since when? A long time, at least since he was fifteen and Greg….

_No_, he commanded himself. _Maybe I'm fixable_, he thought and hoped. But didn't hope either. Truth was, Dave liked being a bear cub, liked how much it explained, he wasn't sure he wanted to throw that away just yet. But how many times could you listen to your mother pray for you loudly? How many cans of pink spray paint against your locker proclaiming you "a fag" at how many schools could you take before you broke down hard?

As it turns out, the number is smaller than you think. That's how you end up at Stone Eagle.

_Maybe it'll be worth it in the end_, David thought with an almost cheerful sort of pessimism. _Maybe they can fix me_. Reaching for a Twizzler, he bit off both ends and chewed slowly, savoring the syrupy cherry taste. Then he placed his edible straw into a 20 oz of Vault and sipped, watching the twizzler dissolve into nothing and turn the water pink.

_Or maybe it will destroy you,_ a less cheerful thought thundered into the conversation_. _Dave pushed it away, he had to. They had just crossed the state line. Twenty miles to go.


	2. First Night at Stone Eagle

"So, do you guys have football around here?" Dave asked, trying to make conversation.

Peter didn't bother to turn, but simply answered over his back as he walked. "No. No sports, not edifying to God."

"Then what do you do for fun around here?"

"Nothing, new guy."

Peter glanced to his right and gave a stern look to the kid who had shot off his mouth. "Jeremiah, you know that kind of attitude will cost you demerit points."

Dave could feel the heat of Jeremiah's glare that followed the eye roll. He barely heard the muttering that followed but thought there might have been words like "you can try" or "fuck off". That certainly wasn't the Christian walk he had felt from the brochure.

Peter was…well, plain, Dave thought. Not that he'd be attracted to his wing advisor, well, at least not this one. Peter was pale, thin, and unremarkable accept for a mole to the right of his nose. His gait was like a guy holding one of those incense thing that you always saw in catholic movies. And apparently he didn't believe in fun.

"Pete, man, I don't see why we can't play football. Teams pray in locker rooms, like, all the time."

"Peter, not Pete. Idle hands are the devil's plaything," Peter finally turned to respond and stopped without signal so that Dave almost sauntered into his personal bubble. Plain, with a sneer that only Argus Filch could love, Peter was the man in charge of Dave's schedule. This was not a guy to mess with.

"So…like no music, no dancing, no Kevin Bacon?"

"Who?"

"You know…Footloose?"

Peter blinked and then reprimanded in an almost gentle, pity- filled voice. "I guess that's a popular movie or something. Mr. Karofsky, this is the first of many things you will come to learn in this place, so it would be wise to pay attention. This academy is here for sinners, people that Jesus will have to change to bring back into the fold. There is no traditional "fun" here, just studying, bible workshops and accountability groups, and a ropes course at graduation- if you make it that is."

"And how many people graduate?" Dave asked cautiously.

"Only thirty three and a half percent per year, though they never explain what the half is for," the soft voice said.

"Your goal shouldn't be graduation anyways," Peter stated to the space between the soft voice and Dave, "your goal should always be to find the will of God and live it. The right way." There was a warning in his tone with the last little bit of platitude that Dave didn't like. "Anyways, you're here at your room. I trust you'll find it suitable. All the information, your schedule and map, should be in your welcome packet. I'm here for any prayer requests and such. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I sort of promised my dad I would call him when I got here…."

Peter shook his head. "Afraid we can't allow contact with your parents until you've earned the points, which might not be until week 2. At any rate, there is only one phone in the main office, but I'll make sure a letter is sent to them informing them of your arrival along with quarterly progress reports."

"I…thanks," Dave answered after a moment of stunned silence. _Man, this place is serious_.

"If that will be all," Peter dismissed himself sternly, walking away and leaving Dave to stare at his open door and new roommate.

Stuffing one hand into his jeans pocket, what he did when he was nervous, David merely stood out in the hallway and looked down at his shoes. "Hi." That was the best he could muster as a greeting.

Soft voice was bemused. "Hello to you too. Come on in, fellow nerd."

"Uhhh…nerd? Not a nerd, dude." Dave followed hesitantly, his canvas duffel bag hitting the doorway with a soft thud as he passed.

"Sure you are," Soft voice replied almost cheerily, "You're in room 42."

Dave gave a blank stare, not much room to look around anyways. White walls, a picture of Jesus on each, two beds, one dresser, two desks, and a radiator that suspiciously looked like it would explode at the slightest use. The only splash of color was the blue and yellow fish on the towel hanging off of his roommate's bed.

"42? The answer to life, the universe, and everything? Nothing? Hello? Is this thing on?" Soft voice tapped an invisible microphone.

"Sorry."

"Ah, Douglas Adams. Don't worry new kid, we'll get you acquainted."

Dave extended his hand as if to shake. "Thanks Doug. Nice to meet you. Name is Dave, Dave Karofsky."

Soft voice merely blinked but put his hand out tentatively. "Oh-kay. Well, my name is actually John, John Skye, and Douglas Adams is the author of Hitchhikers Guide, where the whole 42 thing comes into play."

There was an awkward shake. John had the grip of kind of a dead fish and Dave felt like he was jerking the arm up and down too hard. _Too much like a golden retriever, calm down Dave boy._

"So, this is the room?" Dave finally asked after letting go and letting an awkward silence ensue. John sat on his bed, leaning over the railing casually.

"Our kingdom. Nothing much allowed, no place to hid extra stuff. Ooh, speaking of which, did you manage to sneak anything past Buddhamma?"

"Who?"

John nodded to himself. "The entrance guy, checks your bags, big belly and smells like patchouli? His name's Hamma, we added the Budd in ourselves."

Dave chuckled lightly, feeling like the explanation broke a little bit of ice between them. He sat on his bed, duffel bag at his feet. They didn't talk for a minute or so, just sat staring at each other until Dave couldn't stand it anymore and started nodding his head absentmindedly. "So, uh, I guess you're in here for the nerd stuff?"

John shrugged. "Something like that. But we've got plenty of time to dig deeper together here. I've still got a year to go thanks to those damn demerits and I wouldn't want you to get bored of me right away."

"Okay," Dave stated. "So both you and Peter referenced these demerit points. What do you do to get them?"

John pointed to the white folder with a golden eagle embossed that was sticking out of Dave's army green duffel. "Everything's in there, really."

Dave slid the folder out of the top of his duffel bag and opened. Flipping through a few of the pages in the left side pocket, he stopped at the lime green one with Merit and Demerit Points on top. He blinked, whistled low. "Shit. This place is serious."

"You're not just whistling Dixie," John smirked as he joined Dave sitting on his bed, leaning in to look at the new kid's schedule.

"Oh man, Budwhatever took my last Vault. I can't have soda in here?"

"Calm down, Big Dave Kahuna, there is always a way to get stuff when you need it. But come on, before you get too bogged down in details, we can still make the last snack run. That's if you like jello, I suppose."

Dave shrugged. "Jello is.. Okay I guess."

"You'd better get used to it, it's all we've got here for dessert. Keeps the mind clear."


	3. First Night Continued

"Don't get used to talking when you get food," John whispered.

"Why not?" Dave asked in a lower than normal voice.

"Hey, no talking in line!" One of Peter's doubles from one of the other wings chided as he watched over the cafeteria.

"That's why," John whispered. "But I've kind of mastered volume control for each of the four wing advisors and Garrett over there is easiest to whisper under, otherwise I'd make you get a butt-ton of napkins to write on."

Dave followed at a slow pace, taking the square of red jello. _No whipped cream on top_, Dave though, _man_.

John was carrying his on a small light yellow tray like Dave used to get tater tots on at McKinley. McKinley. Even mention of the word made David think of Kurt and Blaine and even Finn. _Woah_, he though, _have to be careful. Those are not good feelings._

"You okay?" John enquired as Dave tuned back in. Skye was looking at him as though he were about to faint. "Your eyes kinda glazed over there for a second."

"I'm fine," David croaked with a throat that felt almost parched. _Just remembering._

"Well, okay, but we'd best sit before you attract too much attention."

Dave joined the three already sitting at the table, who were all looking gloomily down and chewing slowly on their jello squares with a resigned sort of fate. Dave refused to think about why they probably felt that way.

Skye sat on his right and went clockwise around the table. "Dave, this is Coltrane, Tanto, and Iman. Guys, this is Kahuna."

"Wait, that's not right. My name…"

"No names, new kid," Iman stopped Dave short before he could start. "Just in case."

"Just in case of what?" Dave stated, slightly astonished and a little louder than he should have been.

"Did I stutter before? No talking in the cafeteria," the wing advisor intoned with a bit of phlegm in his throat. "What's your name?"

He was at the table, bearing down on Karofsky in a way that made Karofsky feel…well, intimidated. "K..K..Karofsky, David." _This is what Kurt had felt, this is what I deserve_.

The wing advisor began to flip through a clipboard in his hand. "Not even on my list yet, eh? Must be new."

"Just got here," Dave stated in the way of a half-hearted apology. The rest of the table looked down and chewed their collective desserts like they were cud.

The clipboard king merely shook his head. "Tisk-tisk. Conchari, Terrance, Ivans, **and** Clouder; You should have known better than to let him talk! One demerit point a piece."

"What?" Dave breathed.

"Wanna push your luck?"

The one that Skye (Clouder) had called Iman (Ivans) let his spoon clatter noisily onto his tray. He got up without looking around much.

"You got a problem?"

"No, south wing advisor sir. Just have studying to do in Colossions before morning prep."

"Ah, good pupil!" South wing advisor's tone changed into one of delight as Ivans got up to leave. His focus left Karofsky and watched Ivans walk away before snapping back to Karofsky, who still had yet to sit. "Some advice, young Karof…Karof…young student. Learn the rules, learn who are your friends here and time will go much easier for you."

Karofsky sat down and looked at his jello as the south wing advisor walked away. He couldn't eat it now, even though red was his favorite flavor.

"Just in case of that," John whispered to him.

It seemed like a long time before they got back to room 42. David felt like he was losing his mind and he hadn't even been in this place a whole day. It was like a special prison here for him, just to rehash his own cruelness back in double time. He felt afraid, his hands shaking slightly.

John merely shook his head as he closed the door behind them. "You'll be okay, Kahuna. Don't let him into your head. That's how they win."

"I thought them winning was the whole point of being here."

"Not like that. Not **ever** like that."

Dave sat on his bed feeling disoriented and trying to calm down. "Okay, I'll just breath and I'll be fine. Everything will be fine in the morning."

"Not likely, Kahuna. Morning's not better."

"Why not? And why do you keep calling me Kahuna?"

John smiled to himself, a secret smile. "One, I'm not going to spoil the surprise," he stated sweetly with a bit of sadistic glee as he flicked a bang back from his forehead," two, and maybe I should have said this earlier, you have to disconnect here. Even from each other. You can't trust, don't know who will narc from day to day and well, I'd rather kill someone than miss my marshmallow peeps, so I go by a pseudonym so that I won't think about it. At least our small group does."

He continued unabated, leaving Dave to process on his own. "You played football, I guess. I've heard you mention it. Think of it like your team number or nickname or something. I chose Skye because, well, Clouder. Skye is a lot cooler than being named after a Pokemon or something and the drummer of my favorite band used to be Skye. Coltrane is here because his parents thought he listened to the devil's music, which mostly consisted of Coltrane. Terrance became Tanto after we found out that his parents sent him here for befriending a Native American pow-wow league. They thought he was seduced to dark paganistic animal rituals. And Iman, as you might have guessed, is a closeted muslim."

Dave stood up with a surge of energy. "That's horrible."

And then John gave him the first honest, blank answer since they had met. "That's Stone Eagle."


	4. Dave Opens Up A Little

The last page in Dave's journal was getting covered in black scratches from his pen. He couldn't send the letter the way it was. Hell, he couldn't send the letter ever.

Dear Kurt,

Dear Kurt, I

Dear Kurt, How are you? I'm doing well here at my new school. Boy, Georgia sure is different from Ohio.

It was official. Karofsky sucked at this. And the worse part of it all was that he was trying. He was trying so damn hard. And he wanted, no he needed, to hear from Kurt. A friendly voice in all this confusion.

"Here." John's voice broke into his head. He looked up, realizing his brow was furrowed way too intensely.

Dave took the aspirin that was in John's outstretched hand. Well, aspirin or a Matrix style pill, not that Dave cared which at this point, which is also why he wasn't enquiring as to where it came from when aspirin was under the qualification of "drug" which was not allowed at Stone Eagle.

"Feel better?"

Dave swallowed the small pill dry and hoped its magic would work soon. "You weren't kidding. And at ear splitting volume too."

John nodded in agreement. "You never get used to it. Especially if you like singing in the shower."

_Oh shit._ "You didn't hear me, did you?"

"Dude, we all heard you. But its no big deal. It was refreshing to hear someone sing again."

"But how…"

"The walls are thin," John said, "because a whole bunch of male teenagers and three shower stalls? Hi."

"Oh, I wouldn't think…"

John chuckled. "Yes, you would. Stop kidding yourself."

"Seriously, though, its like this for twelve hours every day starting at 6 am?"

John shook his head in response. "No. Not on Sundays at least. No need to upset parents on visiting day."

Dave shrugged as he rose from his reclined position. "Wouldn't upset my mom. She'd think it was doing me good."

"That's a shame. But its pretty common around here. Are you trying to write to a relative or something then? That what all the deep concentration's about?"

Dave tried to collect his thoughts, tried to figure out what he could say about Kurt that wouldn't completely trash whatever John thought of him. It would be hard if his roommate here pulled a "Z" and decided never to talk to him again. It would be harder than having to wake up to "Angels From the Realm of Glory" at 6 in the am six days a week.

"I…back at my old school, I played football. That's where my letterman jacket comes from."

"The one stuffed in your pillow?"

Dave nodded as John gestured to the pillow. "Yeah…I, its silly, but I like keeping it close. I wish it reminded me of better times and it should because we won conference for the first time in 8 years or something but it doesn't."

Dave took a moment to try and catch his breath. "Sorry, this is… I don't want you to hate me for telling you this."

John sat down next to Dave on Dave's bed and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Couldn't happen. Whatever this place is doing to you, you're punishing yourself way worse than you need to. In therapy, creative writing, hell, even gym time."

John was right, of course. The bruises on Dave's knuckles from the punching bag were proof of so many things: rage, shame, fear. Things which the head honchos here at Stone Eagle didn't seem to cure, just continue feeding into. Dave was, well, he was more worried about himself than ever. And that was on top of crushing amounts of homework and bible study stuff he had to do. Dave wondered why gym time was allowed but not football or organized sports. If he was going to follow arbitrary rules, they needed to make sense, didn't they?

"I know," Dave agreed, "and its frustrating as hell because everybody here thinks I've got daddy issues. My dad's a great guy, always encouraged me and never hit me or anything. Things only became crap when I stopped talking to him. And that therapist…"

John commiserated with the grimace Dave put on. "I know, pressuring you to act out group scenarios and you just kept going "no, that never happened", "no that never happened", "no that never happened", like a broken record. It was great. Probably won't bode so well for you in the end but Mr. Jones needed a comeuppance and you were great."

"Thanks. I just don't want anyone to think my gay issues came from him or like an uncle or something."

"Hey, that was pretty good," John noted.

"What?"

"You didn't flinch that time."

"I didn't?" Dave's body and smile surged with warmth. "Yeah, yeah I'm…I guess I'm getting a little better."

"Go on with your story. I wanna hear more."

"Well, it starts further back when I was playing hockey…"

The knock on the door interrupted Dave and John's bonding time. It was Iman who was on the other end, pushing the door open all the way.

"Compatriots, it is time."

"Already? We did this last week!"

"Yes, but you will come now," Iman stated, unfazed.

"What? Where?" Dave asked.

"It is time to whoop my brother's butt at the unholy game of Uno, stocky Kahuna friend who sings like a dying walrus."

"Do I really sound like a walrus?"

John's grin broadened. "Only in heat. And that was probably the echo from the shower tiles. C'mon."

Uno was not a quick affair between the five players, three of whom liked to pretend it was five card stud. And to make matters worse, there was a rare gaggle of girls that giggled over at them occasionally.

"You see that one over there?" John whispered to Dave, "in the dark blue dress?"

Dave glanced briefly, folding his cards inward so John couldn't cheat. "Yeah, sure, the one that looks like the pink power ranger, right?

"Yeah, Jenn. She's been eyeing you man."

"No, you think?" Dave smirked. It would be nice, even if he was gay. But then the thought gripped him. He didn't think about her like that, he couldn't. And it felt like…how silly was this…it felt like cheating on Kurt somehow.

"Go on, dude. You get out quicker if they think they've cured you."

"I…I can't. It wouldn't be honest."

"Fine, I'll date her then."


	5. Dave Crumbles

"All you've gotta do is take this note over to her, real quick before Peter or Garrett can catch on." John thrust into Dave's open palm whatever he had scribbled on the bottom of their score sheet and folded so that Dave couldn't read it. "And don't worry if you get caught. I mean, what's one more demerit right?"

"Right," Dave nodded softly. _Boy,_ he thought,_ a week and a half sure have made a difference. Feels like I just got here too, but those points…those are just a mountain too hard to climb. I'll probably never talk to Dad again_. "Couldn't hurt," he added with more bravado than he actually felt.

The chair made that annoying scratching noise across the floor as Dave rose. He tried to saunter over nonchalantly to Jennifer and slid the note on the table while looking over his shoulder. "Here. Its from John."

He took a tentative spot back to the table when he heard her. And she had a squeal, a very unpleasant "announce it to the world" type of squeal.

"Really? You sure?"

Dave blinked, just wanting to go back to his game of Uno but she advanced again when he tried to move. "Yeah, umm, note says it all."

She was small, at least a foot shorter than Dave, but had a grip around his midsection in an instant and he felt like he was one of those cans of beers that he and Z had used to steal from each other's family members. "Than I accept!" her voice squeaked. God, and she had lipstick on her snaggletooth and these wide, wholesome eyes….

Dave could feel dinner start to come up his throat. "Wha…"

"Your proposal. Oh, I always wanted one of you to marry me and now, and now, and now it'll be the best wedding ever!"

_Oh God_, Dave thought,_ I've been pranked. That's gotta be it. I just gotta be cool about it._

But the room was spinning now. He could feel it. And they might be laughing at him and oh God! He couldn't hear it, couldn't take it. It was so, so public and stupid and….

"…and we can have beanie babies for all the guests and our color scheme can be white and pink like Valentines Day and…"

"Gotta go," was all Dave could manage before he hustled out of the cafeteria in a hurry, almost pushing Peter into the doorframe in the process.

"Karofsky, what's…"

John was on Dave's heels as quickly as he could without making Peter suspicious. "It's, it was the veggie lasagna from dinner - didn't agree with him. I'm just gonna go…"

"Do you need anything for him?"

John shook his head. "No, he'll just probably need to lie down. Be right as rain the morning."

John didn't stick around to hear whatever Peter replied with. He was down the hallway quickly and noting that Dave wasn't in their room, pushed the door to the communal bathroom open gently.

"Kahuna? Dave? You in here?"

All he could hear was the sound of someone throwing up. No, correction, someone dry heaving.

"Dave, man, I'm sorry. It was just a…"

There was a second, lighter retch before Dave responded. "Were they laughing at me?" Dave's voice was miserable and had the cold echoing ring of someone pressing their head against the metal sides of the stall.

"No, I don't think so. I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to…"

"Trying to what? Embarrass me, haze me, what? Well, congratulations, I looked like an idiot."

"NO, that's not…"

"Yes, it was. And you have no idea, you don't know anything about what I've done!"

John couldn't argue with that. They were even barely what you would call friends. "You're right. I didn't know. But I can't apologize for forever for one stupid mistake. I'll be in the room if you need me. You shouldn't stay here too long, though. Peter'll come looking."

Dave stayed silent for a long time after that. The door slammed behind with a thud and he laid on that tile floor feeling miserable and broken. He'd never be right now, he couldn't even handle a simple joke. All he could see and hear was Vince and "fag" and kissing Kurt and Sebastian teasing him.

But he didn't cry. He just dry heaved once more, leaning up into the bowl and then dropping back down again onto the floor. Eventually, he found himself moving when his legs started to cramp from their position. He staggered out of the stall and to the sink. He wet a paper towel with cool water and put it over the back of his neck the way that Mercedes and Quinn had done when they had dropped off that god awful and yet endearing Edible Arrangement.

**At the hospital: "Why…why would you help me? After everything I did…"**

**"You tried to kill yourself Dave." :At the hospital**

Life, they had wanted him to live. They had known, maybe they had always known that he was gay. Maybe he had always known, always been the second side of that equation.

Hate, loss, pain, fear. This was his life now. These were the things he was. Unraveled, afraid, too damaged to cry or joke or laugh.

_Scattered thoughts_, Dave grumbled to himself,_ I have to get out of this bathroom. Can't stay in here with these thoughts like a damn Harry Potter movie_.

John looked up from his bed, but Dave shrugged off the apology before he could ever begin. "Don't try. We both acted stupid. Just let it go and tell the other guys to let it go if they were in on it, okay? I don't react well to public stuff…not after being outed by Vince and losing football. Let's just call it a character flaw and move on."

John shook his head. "If you'd have seen your face, you'd know…"

"I'm damaged, okay? That's all. No more."

No, Dave could cry some more. Or freak out. Well, whatever the hell he was doing right now.

John shook his head and moved around Dave to underneath his desk. Dave heard the sound of something in a plastic package being reached for. A secret six pack of Oreos.

"Here," John shoved them into Dave's hand. "I can't make up for what's happened tonight or even help you with your demons but I don't want this place to break you either."

"I'm already broken."

"They could destroy the shards. Just sit and eat…"

Dave did just that. He leaned into the wall, drained from emotion. He opened the package and untwisted an Oreo. He waved the opened package back in John's direction. "Here. I know I look big but I won't be able to eat more than three right now. Don't waste your stash."

John nodded, moving to Dave's bed next to him. He took the second Oreo from the pack. "You're gonna tell me you couldn't destroy this bag of cookies?"

Dave shrugged. "I'm more of a Twizzler/Sour Patch Kids guy myself."

"Duly noted for the next time we do our covert snack ops."


	6. A Deal With the Devil?

The room wasn't what you would call a mess. There was nothing significant out of place or even messed up, but John's heart stopped as though the room had been ransacked.

_They've checked our room_, his first almost terrified thought rang out. He checked beneath his desk and in the hollow space behind the radiator. Both were secure with his contraband. They had rummaged through his bottom drawer (easy to tell because of how they messed up his pants when they refolded them) but nothing was missing. Nothing until….

"Oh shit," he cursed to himself.

He knocked four times on his door post. He heard the squeak from next door as someone got off their bunk and then the knock continued. The opening sounds of the twilight bark. Next part of the code, two knocks and a dash.

_Where is Dave?_ John's thoughts became increasingly worried for him. He couldn't help but think that Dave may have stepped on a land mine and wasn't able to move. Which wasn't wrong, he found out. By the time the message had been received by Tanto and the listening device had been slid into place, Dave was already in Mr. Stein's office.

Dave's knuckles were white as he gripped the chair, but he was trying to be relaxed. What had he done wrong? If he started to panic, would there be a way out or would the head of Stone Eagle see what John and the gang had been hiding from the leadership?

Mr. Stein could have easily passed for Paul Karofsky, except his face looked like a squashed bulldog and he insisted on dying his tacky comb-over Donald Trump style. He exhaled a breath before addressing Dave, not even bothering to look up from Dave's file while speaking. "Mr. Karofsky, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've been with our program how long now?"

"I…I'm not sure. I was sick last week and missed a day so I'm all screwed up about it. I think about two months now?"

"Yes, and we're about to send out our first report to your parents."

"Peter might have mentioned that."

That caused Mr. Stein's eyes to flip from the chart onto Dave harshly. "You will address your wing advisor as west wing advisor. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Stein."

"Good. Peter didn't seem to think this meeting was worth our time. Seemed to think you were obstinate and unwilling to learn."

"What?" Panic. He could feel it. The room wasn't spinning yet, he was still in control. His knuckles were white, but not bone white yet. Dave was struggling to hear Mr. Stein correctly.

"I believe you meant to say, what sir?"

"Yes, I'm sorry sir, I was just shocked. I've tried to be a model student here."

"You've had trouble since you started therapy."

"You mean those role playing sessions? With all due respect, sir…"

Mr. Stein slammed down Dave's file on his desk and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Karofsky, you came here for help but you continue to fight us on this."

Dave shook his head. "I don't understand. And it was my mom's idea."

"But you didn't have to accept the idea and come. You obviously knew you needed help." Dave's silence spoke volumes and Mr. Stein continued unabated after a few moments. "Which begs the question of what exactly we're going to send home in your quarterly report."

"I'm doing the best I can."

"And Kurt? Is he 'helping' you?"

Dave wasn't sure he had heard Mr. Stein correctly. "What?"

"You've been writing to someone named Kurt without telling anyone."

"No, I…"

Mr. Stein's voice was a hiss that hit Dave's ears like a boom. "We found your letters in the back of your notebook. Very stupid trying to get help outside Stone Eagle. We are the ones that are here to help and guide you back to a suitable Christian walk, no one else."

"He's just someone from my old school."

"Just someone…"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Stein reclined in his chair, his anger abated and his hands clasped. "Well, Mr. Karofsky. I commend you on forging such a strong friendship. And normally an infraction of this nature would earn you demerit points but those same points seem to have no effect on your desire to change. I've proof of this in your file from your wing advisor."

_Damn_, Dave thought, _here it comes_.

"Seeing as you give no proper defense, I can only assume your commitment to the projected outcomes of Stone Eagle are not copasetic and as such, we have very little option but to let you go."

"What? No! I've…"

"You don't want to go back to your old school? What was it? Hoover? Eisenhower?"

"McKinley and I can't, sir. I can't."

"Well, then what would you suggest, Mr. Karofsky? This is your education, after all."

"I guess I would ask what you needed as proof that I'm serious about my time here?"

Mr. Stein smiled and Dave thought of the smile of a wolf he had seen once a nature show before he devoured his prey. It was unsettling to say the least.

"You only have one option, Mr. Karofsky. We call this option intensive reparative therapy. It requires your written consent to go on, but I assure you its results are quite stellar and worth the signature."

"Reparative therapy?"

Mr. Stein slid an unassuming white sheet of paper from Dave's file. It was all typed up and looked pretty official except for needing a signature next to the giant X at the bottom. "In the old days, they called it 'shock treatment'. A horrible name." Dave's face twisted with a variety of frightened emotions at the idea of something called shock treatment. "Now, now. It's much safer and more refined. You don't even feel it these days. We give you some anesthetic, measure your brain waves, its safer than an MRI. And its proven to work."

"And you're saying this is the only way?"

Mr. Stein gave Dave a fatherly look which came off just looking patronizing. "Dave, can I call you Dave? Dave, it's not the only way. It's just the best way. Here, I'll even let you borrow my pen."


	7. The Great Escape

It was a long walk back down to the room for Dave. His feet felt like lead, his mouth like he had eaten a burrito made out of cotton that had been lined with barbed wire. He didn't talk nor did Peter, who had been on his way back to the west wing and had been passing by the office when the meeting ended. There was nothing that Peter could have said that would have been constructive and, in any case, Dave probably would have tuned him out. The things that Peter had said about him…

Dave just wanted to rest after the "dead man walking" journey back to 42 but John wouldn't let it go. He was up in Dave's face the moment the door shut behind him. "Did you sign? You have to tell me. Oh God Dave, did you sign that damn paper?"

Dave's brain worked over time to identify words and put together a response. "What? How did you…"

"We have homemade listening devices," John shrugged it off as though that were a normal thing," but that doesn't matter. David. Did. You. Sign. That. Paper?"

"If you were listening," Dave let his train of thought roam out loud, "then why don't you know the answer?"

"Tanto got spooked by something before he could hear your answer and I don't want to assume anything. You've just gotta tell me so that we can make plans."

"Plans?" Dave arched an eyebrow.

John nodded, exhaling a sigh and sitting down on his bed with an almost nervous fidget. "Plans for your escape."

"Plans for my escape."

"Yes. Is there a bloomin' echo in here? You've been targeted. We can't…I've seen what happens…God Dave, do you know how serious this shit is now?"

"Pretty serious if it's got you rattled," Dave started as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, "but I'm just too exhausted to feel it. I just feel…empty about the whole thing."

"Trust me - you shouldn't. We gotta get you outta here man."

"I'm still a minor."

John shook his head. "You'll have to work it out with Kinsington on what you're gonna do about that. You just, you can't stay."

"If I get caught before I turn eighteen in a couple of months, I'd just be shipped back here. This is my boarding school."

John's face began turning more and more pale with each word. "Dave, you don't get what they're gonna do to you? No one would want that. Laws be damned, you've gotta find a new life."

"You're starting to freak me out."

"Good. You should be."

Dave sat down on John's bed so that their shoulders lightly touched. "I guess it's a good thing that I told him I needed to think about it then. He told me he'd give me 24 hours."

John nodded as he folded his hands together and put them against his upper lip as though he were praying. "Well, that's something. But we're getting you out of here tonight. It's risky, but we've done it twice before and its all I can think to do."

"Why do you care about me so much? I was a bully, John. I threatened to **kill** someone." Dave emphasized the word kill to try and drive it through John's skull that that had been serious business too.

"That doesn't make you any less of a person now. I'll reevaluate after you're gone but, honest to God Dave, not even you are worth electroshock. No one is."

Dave sighed. "Okay then. I guess I have to ask what the plan is."

"You can't know," John stated with steel in his voice, "you need to be innocent in case it fails. Is there anything you want to take with you?"

"My varsity jacket, that's all."

John nodded. "Okay, load up at dinner because we're getting you out at snack time."

- **Snack Time** -

Tension. Tension so thick that you would need a chainsaw to cut through it. But only at "the Uno table" as everyone described them. The five of them had been a team for a short time, even Dave who had earnestly distracted Peter once when the contraband run came through that week he'd gotten a stomach bug. Turns out delirium and throwing up on someone's shoe can be a great way to not get demerit points.

Dave could feel his entire body clenching, sweating. Basically, none of his internal workings were holding steady. Someone was bound to notice how his hand was shaking, how his palms were cold and damp. He could barely hold the cards, had no concentration in the game. _Perhaps_, he thought,_ if we're lucky, they'll think it's me deciding to sign. I hope that's what they think._

What made this all the worse was that Dave didn't know when John's plan was going to strike. Everything at the drop of a hat was going to change. Would there be time? Was it really no goodbyes, no fanfare, just chaos like the nicknames thing? There was a nagging thought in the back of Dave's head that he really wasn't worth this trouble. That he would serve a better purpose to the world post electroshock, even if the haunted look in John's eyes told him otherwise.

There was a whimper over his right shoulder. "Oh Davey."

He half turned in his chair at the pitied sound of his name. Jennifer. _Damn_, Dave thought. It hadn't taken long for the word to get out. _She looks like she's taking this pretty hard_. Granted, Dave Karofsky was not a fan of Jennifer but he wasn't really very comfortable with her wide-eyed staring at him and the whole "brink of tears" thing was a little unsettling.

"Oh Davey," Jennifer stated again. Scratch that, very unsettling. The eyes had distracted Dave when he finally observed enough to see she was holding a bag of Sour Patch Kids out to him.

"What are you doing?" Dave hissed, "Do you want to get in trouble?"

"I just…these…" she shoved the candies into his chest and then began to bawl. Her voice reached a level that Dave was pretty sure he had only heard about once in a Harry Potter book and then she was just standing there and Dave was half turned, holding a bag of contraband candy. John was up in a flash with his arm around her, comforting her.

It was a nice gesture on John's part up until Peter noticed a girl sobbing in John's arms. "Hey! Break it up, you too! No fraternization with opposite genders!"

Peter made it maybe two steps before John turned away from Jennifer and stepped in the air between the two. Dave noticed, at his ringside seat for this meltdown, that John was only about three inches shorter than the west wing monitor.

"No Peter. Not this time. Fuck your rules, man! Fuck your rules and your therapy and the goddamn high horse you rode in on." There were no demerit points enough.

"How dare…"

"How dare? How dare? You better well believe how I goddamn dare!" John's hands were flapping about wildly, on the brink of pushing or possibly slapping Peter. "You have no right to treat any of us like this."

"I'm giving you to the count of three to calm down," Peter snarled.

"Or what?" John chuckled almost hysterically. "What else can you take away? Our minds, our families? You think you're so tough, but lets see how big a man you are without that clipboard…"

The sound of the clipboard being knocked to the floor seemed to echo throughout the whole complex. A thought sprang to Dave's head that roared like an unjust lion. _A scene. He's creating a scene_. Dave started to bolt from his seat to get up and defend John before there was more trouble, firmly convinced that he wasn't worth whatever hell John was risking himself for.

But there was a firm hand at the back of his shirt, to the right of his elbow. Iman's grasp and a very small breathed and yet confident "No."

Dave wanted to scream _Skye!_ so that he could say everything he meant as a thank you but there was too much chaos just then as more monitors descended through the door and John was flailing about or going limp against someone's grasp. He was making the sounds of an undignified banshee and having an epileptic fit all while Iman was basically pulling Dave through the unsupervised door.

The hallway was quiet in comparison to the lunch room. Dave jogged behind Iman, who took long strides down the north hallway. They came to an oversized rolling laundry hamper that smelled like moss and was now more yellow than the white it had once been. Iman didn't mince words or get sentimental. "Get in."

Dave blinked. "What's going to happen to Skye?"

Iman gave David a glare. "They'll send him back to his father. He'll be beaten for a month and then return here. Yes, he knows this. But, much like with Hornsby before you, he's taking this punishment in your steed. Be grateful, stop talking, and get in."

Dave didn't have time to argue or even be stunned by the blatancy of Iman's answer before he felt Iman grab his arm, wrench him around, and toss him like a sack of potatoes into the laundry cart. He squirmed against the smell and moved around until he found some kind of spot that wouldn't make him gag. Several more towels fell over the top of him along with something he recognized out of the corner of his eye. His varsity jacket.

The cart began to roll again with a groan. "Iman," Dave whispered.

"Not now, son," the warm southern voice replied, "we've just gotta make it through Hamma and a couple of others and then you can talk. For now, you're a sack of laundry to be done and that's all."

Dave thought the tension of the snack room had been rough but the squeaking roll of the cart wheels and the light, lame pleasantries that the southern voice exchanged with the guards was making Dave nauseous, the mossy fumes being a large contributor. There was no sweeter sound than the metal clang of the door to the laundry van being shut.

Dave's body was fuming against him, cramping and causing him to yowl internally. He held it in, not wanting to be caught. John had done this for him and he needed to try. No, not try. He needed to succeed.

The voice called from the front cab of the van as the engine roared to life.

"….put in the back of the cab til we get a little farther out, past Benning at least. Then we'll find a rest stop. Okay, young man?"

Dave was just getting himself turned up right while trying to respond. He blinked around in the darkness, noticing the three other laundry hampers sliding around slightly in the back of the van that had had its back seats ripped out so that things rolled and gently clanged but generally fit in the back. He felt slightly disoriented but answered anyways.

"Yes, sir."


	8. The Great Escape Pt 2

"Not hungry son?"

"No sir," Dave answered dejectedly. He had spent five minutes staring at the two double cheeseburgers that the old man had bought him. The janitor was maybe sixty, had skin as dark as coffee and wrinkles in his hands. But, even to his dying day, he'd remember the old man's eyes. They were soulful, almost too soulful- as though everything he saw gave him pain.

"Didn't think you would be. It's okay, though, you just take'em on the train with ya. You'll be hungry at some point."

"Yes sir," Dave replied without much feeling.

Kinsington chewed a fry thoughtfully. "You ain't gonna start crying on me, are ya?"

"I…I don't think so."

"No. I wasn't sure, but you don't look like a crier. Probably more of a thinker."

Dave shook his head. "I don't think so. Wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess if in the first place if I was."

"Now why you wanna go and think like that?" Kinsington asked. "Far as I can see it, this situation happened to you as much as you happened to it. Sure enough, it's okay to wallow a little bit but you wallow too much and man, watch how it gonna destroy you."

Dave nodded in response. "Are you gonna get in trouble for helping me, sir?" _I don't know much more of this I can stand_.

Kinsington shook his head. "I don't think so. And stop callin' me sir. The name is Edgar. I'm a man, flesh and blood like you. Though I'm old as dirt and probably with just as many teeth." Ed smiled to show that it was a joke and made Dave shake with him as though they had just met. "Now I feel better. Far as I can see it, they'll think you're walking and they won't go looking past Benning til tomorrow. I won't get in trouble, even if they don't find ya."

"Where are we gonna go so they don't find me?"

"We'll be putting ya on the next train to wherever, I suspect. Unless you can go home?" Dave's silence spoke volumes. "No, I didn't think so. Most kids end up at that school can't go home, that's why they end up there. You at least got someone you can call once you get where ya going?"

Dave thought for a moment. He didn't have a phone and only knew two numbers by heart. "Maybe. Will they call my parents or just send a letter?"

"Probably just call to say to expect you on a weekend pass. It's a lie, of course, but it's a way to see if you already there and to let'em know to expect you to come on back. It's good though that you got someone you can call, though you gotta be sparse about them collect calls cause they rack up money."

"Where do you think I'll end up at?"

Kinsington reached in for his last fry and then picked up the box and squinted into it as though he expected it to refill. "Won't know til we get there. Got enough collected to get you outta the state though. And payin' in cash, so you shouldn't need an id."

_Crap_, Dave thought, _this just keeps getting worse and worse_.

Ed noticed Dave's downturned face. "You worried, aren't ya? Internalizing it all?"

Dave's eyes flicked up from his uneaten burgers to Ed's face. "Yes, sir- Edgar sir. I mean, Ed. It's just a lot for me to deal with."

"You gonna blame yourself or you gonna pick yourself up?"

_Blame_. "Pick myself up."

Ed nodded. "Good boy. Even if you lyin' to yourself, it's a start son. Now, we gotta get going along."

Dave grabbed for Ed's tray while he stuffed the cheeseburgers in his varsity jacket. "The least I can do is throw away your tray for you, Ed."

Ed smiled. "That's right nice of ya. Now I won't have to make you ride in the back all the way to the station." Ed let out a loud guffaw after his little joke that lingered after they had exited the McDonalds.

The train station wasn't nearly as abandoned as Dave thought it should have been, though it wasn't even quite ten pm. And there weren't a lot of options. And there seemed to be a couple of nosy cops around and those noisy cop radios seemed to squawk an awful lot for Dave's caring.

"Now don't lose your head," Edgar thought as they walked to the check-in counter and read Dave's mind. "Those little black boxes ain't talkin' about you. Looks like you headin' to New Orleans."

"But I don't know anyone in New Orleans."

The line moved up a couple people more. "You know anyone outside your little town you from?"

"I have an aunt in New Mexico that grows vegetables, but she, she doesn't like me much."

"Suspect she doesn't like the person you were. You don't know now how she feel about the person you are. You just keep that in your mind. I'll do the talking for your ticket, okay?"

And that was how Dave Karofsky was left alone in the almost run down Amtrak station in Georgia for half an hour. He went to the bathroom twice, more from a nervous bladder than anything and once to escape a cop who was way too interested in where his varsity jacket came from. More than once Dave wished he had had a normal jacket with him, it created less attention. Which was really the first time he wished he'd never gotten the damn thing to begin with.

It became easier to lie as he boarded the train. He concocted a half truth about an ill family member and looking at a state school in New Orleans, which apparently had a killer mens lacrosse team from what one very amicable fan in the terminal had said, and most people were satisfied by that. He even started going by his dad's name, Paul, just so nobody would connect him with Dave. Even him. He wasn't sure he wanted to be Dave anymore.

He had some time to think about it on the train. There weren't many people in the car with him and no one in particular felt like chatting. The only other person who didn't sleep was a lady three rows up who kept her light on. All night long, rosary beads moved through her calloused fingers, pausing to rub and pray. Dave wanted desperately to ask for prayer for himself but it seemed a shame to bother her. She seemed really nice and elderly, not frail but wiry. She even had that same haircut that Sophia from the Golden Girls had.

When they arrived, Dave helped her down off the train when it looked like she might slip on one of the steps they sat out. Her hands were warm and he noticed her shawl was hand knit. It was nice for him to know that she got looked after in the world. He imagined that she deserved it. Dave thought that one day he might want to be one of the people who deserved looking after.

It wasn't quite one in the morning from what the clock on the wall of the Amtrak station in New Orleans said. But then the hands didn't move very often and there wasn't a digital clock to look at, so Dave dialed collect with some hesitancy from a pay phone that had seen better days (and probably had not had a half ripped and dirty phone book in some of them.)

"Hello?" The voice was groggy, but had accepted the charges.

Dave lost his voice in his throat in a sob. His composure was going, even with just a simple hello. "Kurt?"

"Who is this?"

There was a sound of rustling fabric on the other end of the phone. Dave felt awful about this but hearing Kurt's voice, even if Kurt didn't know who he was…what was it Edgar had said? Something about someone caring for him? "It's me, Dave."

"Dave…David?" There was a pause on the other end as Kurt checked his phone. "Where on earth are you calling me from?"

Dave's voice went to an audible whisper as though he didn't want it to be true. "I'm calling from New Orleans."

"You're where? What's? Dave, what's going on?"

"Listen, I don't have much time. I don't know how long this collect call will go through for. I just wanted to let you know I'll be okay."

Kurt's voice went up a few notes. "What do you mean you'll be okay? Dave, you're not thinking about hurting yourself again? Please tell me…"

Dave had to think for a moment. Was he? He wasn't sure. He knew he was nearly as scared and pretty much as hopeless but Kurt not wanting him to hurt himself helped a lot. "No. I just, whatever my parents tell you isn't true. They don't know I'm here and they can't know, not until I've gotten some shit figured out at least."

"Dave, did you run away? You're a minor still! They can send you to juvie for that, can't they?"

"I don't know. But it was the best alternative I had. And its only a month and a half or so until I turn eighteen. Kurt, it's, it's so good to hear your voice. I tried to write you, but I…I didn't want to interfere."

"We're friends, Dave. You don't interfere, but why are you trying to write me? What's been going on? Is this about your new school?"

The phone began to crackle with static as the lights flickered in the Amtrak terminal on Dave's end. "Crap. Something's happening here. I…I have to go Kurt."

"Go where? David Karofsky, you stay on the phone and talk to me."

"I would if I knew how to explain. I know you don't pray but if like Mercedes does or someone, I could use that right now."

"Dave, you're scaring me."

"That goes for both of us."

"Hello? Hello?" Kurt stared at his cell phone and then put it to his ear as Dave's voice was replaced by dial tone. "What on earth is going on?"

"Hey, what was that phone call about?" Blaine's voice grounded Kurt's thoughts. "You sound pretty worried about him."

"I am." Kurt blinked while he tried to process. "He wasn't making much sense."

"Well what did he say?"

"He said, now let me think. He said not to trust his parents, that he would be okay and that he was in New Orleans. Did he mention New Orleans to you or am I just going crazy?"

"Not to me." Blaine sat up so he wouldn't fall back asleep, which actually made Kurt more tense than before. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

"A couple of months ago, but he thought he was transferring schools then and wanted some space to feel it out. But he never said where. And something about writing letters to me…"

Blaine reached out for Kurt's free hand, the other still clutched around his cell phone in a death grip. He kneaded his boyfriend's palm with his thumb. "Hey, we'll figure this out. Let's get dressed, make some tea and then a plan. Whatever is going on, it will be okay."

"How can you be sure?"

Blaine scooted into Kurt's side and placed his forehead on Kurt's forehead. "Because I know. I know because no father wants to ever see his son go through what Mr. Karofsky has seen Dave go through."

What Paul Karofsky had no idea of, though, was where Dave actually was. Dave, at that moment, was wandering the early morning streets of New Orleans, lost and spooked out. Graveyards, half lit houses, the far away rumbles of garbage trucks, beer cans littering the streets, and the far too close bark of angry dogs were unnerving. The lack of people on the streets didn't help much either.

Eventually, he came to a boarded up house and it looked like the steps were still climbable. The house wasn't graphitized but was a dirty white from dirt and moss and who knows what else. And the porch was tilted and not all that pleasant, as though the foundation had been poured incorrectly. But there was a clean corner behind a porch swing for him to huddle into. And huddle he did. Instead of exhaustion, Dave Karofsky finally found himself in a place to feel and cry.


	9. Dave and Fate

**Growl. Growl.**

Dave figured that he must have finally drifted off because he woke up and there was full-on daylight. He had to take off his jacket because of the humidity, but it wasn't the humidity that worried him so much after a couple of minutes. It was the realization that he was not alone.

There were these two dogs, grimacing and gnarled over from hunger. They had wiry coats of black interspersed with coppers and reds, but it was their unified stare that captivated Dave. He knew that if he'd had woken up five minutes later, he would have woken up without a face if at all. These mongrels were serious business.

It had felt really good to stand up and hear his knees pop and his back crack from the stiff position, but all those good thoughts and realization that he had made it through the night evaporated quickly. Truth was, these dogs were only still because he was still and staring at them. It was foreboding and unpleasant.

He remembered the cheeseburgers he had in his pocket from Ed and Dave knew that the growl of his stomach would hit eventually but that growl was lower than these dogs. The outer gate was at least still open from where he had barged in during the night and Dave realized that that had been how the dogs had also gotten in. The gate had been pretty loose to begin with, so perhaps they would have gotten in in either case.

"Hey fellas," Dave stated testily to the mutts with his hands outstretched, "let's not get testy now. We can both get what we want without any unnecessary pain here." Dave slowly reached back for his jacket from where he had left it on the porch and felt in the pocket, bringing out a double cheeseburger still in the greasy yellow wrapper. He unwrapped it slowly and then threw the sandwich far to the side of the yard, away from the gate.

The dog eyes followed the sandwich but stood their ground, only licking their lips and moving forward another half inch in unison.

"Okay," Dave gulped, "tough crowd."

The second sandwich did the trick. He was out the gate and at least a block away before he slowed to a more casual pace. He was walking aimlessly now, not quite sure where to go. He kept straight down the roads without turning on any side streets. He didn't see many people, just a few out hanging laundry, which seemed pointless with the rising humidity, and a couple swinging on their porch swings. The entire place seemed a little haggard and run down.

_Perhaps New Orleans is the place for me_, Dave thought glumly after awhile. His elbows and arms were getting soaked with sweat from where he carried his jacket. Dave needed to find a place to sit before he fainted from dehydration or something like that. _No_, Dave thought, _what I need is a plan. Just wandering around won't get me much of anywhere_.

He found solace in a small library. They had a working bathroom and shade, but no air conditioning. He made due with what he had though. He read the paper, or rather looked at the paper while trying to decide what he would do next. All he could see in the words were high school drop out, alone, homeless. And none of those words were very helpful to his situation. Dave found himself afraid of going into a church for fear of someone knowing he was either gay or on the run from Stone Eagle. He couldn't go into a grocery store or a convenience store because he had no means of paying for anything save for some rampant change and no way of knowing how he'd ever find a job at this rate.

He felt a jab in his arm. The librarian was looking over him. "No sleeping in the library, son. Gonna have to ask you to leave."

"But I…" Dave thought he would argue but at worst she would call security or the local cops or something. Dave couldn't handle that. "Yes ma'am."

He felt the grogginess in his muscles as he wandered out of the library and back into the heat of the maybe still morning sun. Maybe he had fallen asleep without realizing it, even just briefly. Hard thoughts could do that to a person. He stretched out his shirt a little bit to try and give himself a bit of breeze, but nothing much was working._ No_, Dave decided, _I can't stay in New Orleans. Not if every day is gonna be this hot. This is worse than Lima summers._

Dave wished he could find the center of town. New Orleans had to have a downtown besides that late night Mardi Gras district, right? He hoped for a public park with a water fountain and the shade of a tree, but he couldn't be sure if that was merely a pipe dream or not.

The day seemed to go in slow motion around him. It just got hotter and his legs seemed to get heavier. He had to tear himself away when he saw a group of kids frolicking in a busted fire hydrant. Lost, alone, hot, and miserable. Dave was wondering if he'd be dying of a heat stroke today.

And then he thought of Kurt. Kurt would be sad if that happened, at least Dave hoped he would. A small flicker of will burst through his tiredness. Dave shook his head to drive away the fatigue._ I need to think, man!_ He tried to pump himself up. _What am I going to do?_

Eventually, Dave came upon a farmer's market. It wasn't huge, encircled around a bigger than normal gazebo. Most of the vendors had fork wind chimes and tie dyed shirts and there were far more tube tops on older women than Dave found necessary, but there was a fruit stand. There were Jonagold apples, his favorite. Dave rooted around in his pockets. He had a quarter.

Then he had an apple. A brilliant apple, an apple left cool by the mist of the farmer market cooling system. It was crisp manna from fruit heaven. And it was only making him hungrier. Dave finished the apple gloomily, looking forlorn at the thin twig of core and seed it left in his hunger's wake.

What would he do now?

He saw the fish after throwing the apple core away and vaguely wishing he could have been the type to eat the whole apple. It was something his grandmother had always prided herself on - something about the Great Depression and value and, well, he tended to tune her out when she droned like that.

It stopped him at the garbage can, that fish. He thought it was the heat, was pretty sure it was the heat. But it was John's fish, the one from his towel that had hung over the edge of his bed. It was the same shade of lemon yellow, same blue stripe. Dave liked the idea of fate, but even this seemed like pushing it to him.

Still, he found himself running across the street, vaguely looking both ways so he wouldn't hit any cars and then noticing the fish was huge up close and on this really big underwater scene canvas that was being trudged up into a moving truck on one of those unstable steel ramps. The fish itself was wobbling as someone behind was trying to move the whole big thing onto a truck, though they seemed to be hitting a hitch in their plans.

"Woah, woah…damn it, it's…"

"I got it," Dave stated, using the reflexes in his shoulder to halt the fall of the canvas and then stretching out his arms so the whole thing wouldn't topple over on him and probably break.

"Thanks," the voice responded. "Way to show up on time, Bob."

"Sorry, but I'm not Bob," Dave replied from his side of the canvas, and muffled slightly by his jacket, which was slung over one shoulder. This canvas was not heavy but it was by no definite means light. "But you might wanna hurry with this thing."

"Right, on the count of 3...and three!" There was a groan and then the fish was moving, packing away into the dark coolness of the storage truck. The man on the other side of the canvas frame had frizzy hair and huge coke bottle glasses. Dave could smell the coconut from his sunscreen mingling with sweat. "Wow, you're really not Bob."

"What's that?" A second voice called from a door beyond the truck. A door that Dave noted with some envy had lots of air conditioning coming from it. "Did Bob show up finally?"

"No," the first guy replied while he put his hands on his hips over his moving belt, "some random guy saw the ark scene falling over and helped out. Not Bob."

"Better timing than Bob ever had then! Ask if he'd stay and help."

"Well?" The first guy shrugged. "It's horrible work in this heat, but we'll give ya twenty bucks and buy ya dinner. Seems only fair if you're doing what he would've been."

Dave stood speechless for a moment. "Sure, just let me put my jacket down somewhere. You got more stuff like the fish?"


	10. Kurt & Blaine Meet Lillian & Nora

Blaine's gaze shifted to a nervous Kurt in the passenger seat of the car. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

"No, no…I just, do you ever have that feeling, you know, when something's not right?"

Blaine nodded. "I know." And he could feel it too.

Kurt was on the edge of breathless babbling and Blaine just kept looking straight at him so he wouldn't melt completely. "And Dave said we couldn't trust what his parents said, so I'm not even sure how much good this is going to do."

"Okay, first, just breathe," Blaine recommended, as much for his benefit as anything. This was the last lead they really had and Blaine was beginning to wonder what had happened with a slight mounting panic. It certainly wasn't good, whatever it was. "Then remember what I said about his dad. Even if they lie, you're bound to find some sort of half-truth. Something that will make this okay. If our priority is going to be Dave's safety at this moment, then we need to remember that and keep our wits about us."

"Okay," Kurt nodded. "Okay."

Kurt reached for his door handle and opened, hesitating but getting out of the car. He knew that at least someone was home because of the soft yellow lights of the Karofsky house, but he didn't know who. He'd much prefer Paul, because he thought he could get some sort of straight answer and because they had at least met once before (even if it wasn't on great terms). Kurt could still see Paul's eyes when he was leaving Dave's room in the hospital, passing him in the hallway with a cup of presumably cold coffee in his hand and that glazed-over stare. A stare that Kurt saw when he dreamed nightmares.

"On second thought," Kurt added as he turned back towards Blaine, "why don't you come in with me?"

Blaine rang the doorbell and looked around the porch. The porch itself was bare, save for a few strands of weed creeping through the bricks. There was the sound of movement and then Paul Karofsky opened the door just slightly, blocking anyone from seeing most of the inside of the house.

"Yes?" It took him a moment to register Kurt and Blaine. "Oh, you're from David's old school. Is there anything I can do for you tonight? Raising money for the booster club?"

"Mr, Karofsky," Kurt began, "do you remember me? I was…"

"Oh, of course we would!" Paul continued as though Kurt hadn't said anything at all, "But David's at Mount Carmel now and we wouldn't want to be showing support to the wrong team…" Paul began trying to close the door.

"Wait, Mr. Karofsky," Kurt began with a bit of panic, "we know David's not at Mount Carmel."

Paul stopped closing the door and whispered low, "You need to get back in your car and drive away, Kurt."

"Mr. Karofsky, with all due respect…" Blaine tried to interject.

Paul's voice didn't hold any malice, it didn't sound like a threat, but there was still the implication that there was something wrong. "And take him with you."

The door almost shut when a piercing female voice piped in. "Paul, who's at the door?"

Paul's entire body stopped moving, just sort of looking past Kurt and Blaine as though he hoped they'd disappear. "No one, Mother Lillian."

"Come now," she continued unabated, "I know you're talking to someone and lets not play games. Open the door and invite the young callers in."

"Yes, Mother Lillian." Paul stated blandly and opened the door, moving so that Kurt and Blaine could enter the Karofsky home. "Please, come in boys."

Kurt moved forward first, Blaine following. The house was eerie, looking entirely normal and free from mess or stain but there was a fog of feeling the suffocated the entire place. It was unsettling and Blaine found that his hand was trembling in spite of itself.

Lillian Karofsky sat perched on the edge of a recliner that faced the hall. She was a tall woman, dour and wearing a faded shawl that might have been red, orange, and yellow at one point and now was merely a faded and dingy shade of browns. Her face was thin and long and she was hunched over as though she were a preying mantis. Her fingers were clutched around a cane made of dark oak that steadied her position in the chair. "Good evening, gentlemen. To what do we owe this call? Are you friends of my grandson from his former secondary school?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kurt responded first, moving forward to shake Lillian's hand and gave a slight bow while doing so as though he were curtseying before a queen. "My name is Kurt Hummel and this is my-"

"Best friend, Blaine Anderson." Blaine interjected, moving next to Kurt and taking Lillian's hand at the appropriate moment.

Lillian nodded imperiously. "Ah! So you've come to do some fundraising for the football program, have you?"

"No. We're not on the football team," Blaine reacted, "well, you were."

"Yes," Kurt nodded with a sigh. "I was the kicker my freshmen year when they needed a replacement."

"Good," Lillian answered gruffly, "football is good for young men. Teaches cooperation, trust, and the strength of brute force. All good things for men to learn. You don't play football, young Mr. Anderson?"

"No ma'am," Blaine stated. "I'm far too busy with Glee club and …as secretary of student council."

"Interesting, an academic man supporting the football program. In my day, that kind of thing was simply not done. But this isn't the old days, is it?"

Blaine didn't like the way her eyes flashed when she said "old days". "No ma'am," he defended himself, "there's much more crossover these days and it's very important for clubs to support each other what with the difficult financial times, ma'am."

"I see," Lillian stated, unimpressed. "but I still find it unusual that if you were in football or were so keenly interested in it then you would know that David is now at another school and we intend to support that one solely."

"David's our friend," Kurt answered. "We just haven't seen him in awhile and wanted to make sure he's doing alright. We hear the homework load is very difficult at Mount Carmel and wanted to see if he needed tutoring in anything."

"David's academic scores are impeccable," Lillian replied as though the thought of a tutor were nonsense, "but how sweet of you to lie. Obviously, you are one of those people who thought you could hurt an old lady's feelings with the truth."

"Mother…"

"No Paul," Lillian continued as she slowly rose from the recliner. Her cane was beginning to seem less like a cane and more like a weapon. "I will answer for myself. I am not helpless and senile yet, as much as you would wish it." Her eyes narrowed on Kurt. "I know your type. You're the one. That dainty thing that went after my David and made his life hell, made him think wicked things…"

"I didn't…"

"You then proceeded to brainwash him and the school against his natural urges, the way he was always supposed to be. You destroyed his chance at an impeccable scholastic career and had the audacity to make up wild stories with no back up claim."

Kurt and Blaine backed up half a step. Lillian did not advance while she continued her tirade, just seemed to take up more room. "And through it all you remain unblemished and devoted to the young man whose entire future you destroyed! You come to our house after our dinner hour when we seek solace and prayer and you…."

Lillian's rosary beads, the same dark oak as the cane, swung out from her closed fist and clattered to the floor. No one moved to pick them up. "You-you are the reason! You are the hellspawn, the ruiner! The abomination who…"

"Now Mother Lillian," came a drawl that closed the tirade down for a moment. It was a youngish woman, speech still slightly slurred. She came around the corner and the first thing Blaine thought is how strikingly strong and feminine she had looked once. Her hair was three different shades of red, but not an obnoxious red as much as a cascade of amber. It looked drenched and greasy, as though she had been forced under the shower a couple of days ago but hadn't taken much care with it.

The scent followed closely and the tinkering of the ice in the empty glass gave her away. Nora Karofsky was not sober. The effects of alcohol did nothing for her complexion either, drawing the lines in closer with her crows feet and the furrows on her brow. It was clear that Dave favored his father more than her, but there was something in her walk that reminded Kurt of Dave.

Nora's voice was low and deadly like a hissing rattlesnake. "They're just boys. They don't mean any harm. You remember being young, don't you?"

"Yes," Lillian's voice was like a sharp arrowhead fresh from an archeological dig and caused Blaine to flinch just slightly in his left arm. It went mostly unnoticed. 'I remember being young. I remember rules, Nora. Like rules about drinking."

"Oh, but mother, you insisted."

"I insisted a healthy amount, young lady, nothing more. You were allowed to take it too far."

"Mother Lillian, please…"

"Shut up, Paul. I will tell you when I am finished and I am not finished yet. Now back to you two." Her gaze moved from Nora to Paul and finally settled on Kurt, whose resolve was slowly falling like a soufflé in a thunderstorm. "You've told nothing but lies since you got here and I see no reason to pay anything back in kind but lies. However, I am a better person. I will tell you that David has been taken to a place where you can't get to him."

"Ha! Where you can't get to him," Nora echoed.

A little twist of a grin played across Lillian's face. "Thank you, Nora. I believe they get the point."

"If I may, Mrs. Karofsky."

"You may not!" Her voice clipped the air, as though the audience were over. "You just stay away from this family, both of you. All of that school can stay away. You've done enough damage and young David will never see either of you again!"

"You ruined him," Nora cried out, dropping her glass into the carpet. It landed with a soft thud instead of a shatter, which did not seem to satisfy her. "You ruined my baby boy!"

Paul was there just in time, shielding Kurt and Blaine from Nora's staggered running leap down the hallway. There was a sound of something breaking, though whether it was Nora or Paul was unknown. Paul's face gave a tiny grimace. "Please, please just go. My son's already going through enough because of you."

But Paul's sentence was less accusatory and more pleading. Whatever they were hiding, Kurt could see that nothing would have come of this but disaster will Lillian and Nora here. He took Blaine's hand as Blaine reached for the doorknob, the grasp hidden from the view of the bigoted women.

The air was cold and refreshing outside the home and there was still the sound of someone shouting coming from inside the house. Blaine exhaled once. "Wow. That was…"

Kurt finished the thought, "a little crazy. Like a Dali painting."

"No, I think Dali would've freaked out in there too. You did great."

Kurt shook his head, heading for the car. His pace wasn't leisurely. "No. No, now I'm just more worried than I was before. Those kind of words were powerful, that kind of fear. Where do you think they sent him?"

Blaine thought for a moment and then shrugged. He censored himself from saying Nowhere good. "Well, maybe Dave will call you again once he's settled."

Kurt was exhausted, crumpling into his seat without closing the door or buckling his seatbelt. "Should we report him missing or wait for another call? Should I ask dad what he thinks?"

Blaine took a pause to weigh the options. "Let's give it another day or two and believe in Dave. Look, you've got Mercedes and Quinn worried and praying enough already for everyone and we've got people ready with resources. We know he's not a suicide risk, although living in a house with those three might make even me consider that."

"Don't joke…"

"Not a joke," Blaine stated as he tried to face facts, "The worst case scenario is that missing persons brings him back here and they just send him away again, knowing that you and I are worried about him. I think at this point, we would only make it worse. Harder."

Kurt shook his head. "I can't, I can't leave it like this."

"What are you thinking, Kurt?"

Kurt bit down on his bottom lip. "Something proactive. Anything, which is better than nothing." He sat up in the seat and popped open the glove box. He rummaged under insurance paperwork and cd cases for a the spiral notebook they kept in case they had song ideas. Kurt ripped out a clean page and then grabbed for a pen in the back cup holder. It took him just minutes to write out the note. He folded and addressed it.

"Paul's the only one in the house who cares about Dave as a human right now. So we'll leave him what we know and hope for the best."

"Leave it where?"

Kurt pointed with the pen as he wrote Paul's name across the folded portion. "In the mailbox. It seems like they would make him check the mail."

"And if not?"

"I've got a feeling that whatever got Dave to New Orleans would come to light anyways. At least this time, we might be part of the conversation."


	11. Dave's Next Stop

"So you guys don't drive with the moving truck?" Dave sat in the back of the movers' pimped out van, complete with something that he hoped was not ancient shagged carpeting. It looked clean, but he avoided it as much as possible. It was also a very odd shade of green and it seemed to grow everywhere like a sentient Astroturf.

"As if," the frizzy haired brunette with the coke bottle glasses chuckled, "no cup holders. That's not gonna happen."

"No cup holders," the blonde dreadlocked guy echoed, "nowhere to hold coffee or a Vault or a Monster…what is this world coming to?"

"Although," the brunette added in, "you could travel with them if you want. That is, if you're tagging along."

The blonde shrugged. "We need someone to help unload when we get there and it's so hard to find other carnies these days that are worth the time."

"Or effort," the brunette finished his thought.

"Right, or effort. You show up, though, and things go like **bam!** And who are we to argue with results?"

"Yeah, but we know nothing about each other," Dave countered. "And I'm not sure I want to be a…carnie? Aren't carnies the weirdos that work at state fairs and get paid next to nothing?" _Not as though I have anything else going for me_.

"Ah, our brothers in the moving arts," the brunette waxed poetically. "No, me and Howe are the carnies of the theatre world. In demand for productions, this is our life. Free as the wind, nothing but our lovely van Gertrude between us and the open road and death by poverty!"

_These guys are way too excited about their lives_, Dave thought guiltily as he watched the blonde produce rolling papers from his pocket and begin to make a homemade cigarette. "Your van's name is Gertrude?"

The brunette nodded as he answered Dave's reflection in the mirror. "Yeah, named after our dear patron saint Gertrude Stein. An inspiration."

"Her dedication to the arts."

"Unparalleled. Unequaled."

"Self-sacrificing."

Dave was getting dizzy from the acrid cigarette smoke that had a burning raisin quality to it and of the movers' back and forth. He was doubting fate right at that moment. But then he waved off the cigarette when offered and instead of bullying him into it, the guy holding it actually rolled down his window to let out the smoke instead.

Dave coughed lightly, glad the window was rolled down. "So your van's name is Gertrude and she's a VW?"

The brunette nodded. "The super delightful VW Vanagon, to be precise. Engine in the back, extreme stick manuevering in the front, and shag carpeting as far as the eye can see. We're still trying to save up enough to get the side painted with the Death Star but we're not there yet."

"And your name is…Howe."

The blonde answered. "Call me Danny. My name is actually Daniel Howarth Mannheim the Third. The name my bourgeousie parents gave me."

"Call him Howe," the brunette offered, "we all do and it's more fun. Howe's just a bit of a stick in the mud."

"And you, my ever insufferable companion…what if I started calling you Charles again?"

The brunette snorted. "Charlie. But you can call me Charles if you want. I'll just turn up Jefferson Starship and ignore you for awhile."

Dave felt like it was a good time to finish the introductions. "And my name is Dave."

"Really? It would have been fantastic for your name to be Bob."

"Sorry to disappoint?"

"Don't be. Sometimes, that's the way life is," Charlie offered as he revved up the engine. "So, you coming with us Dave? We've got a schedule to keep so we can unload the stuff for this ballet and get to SD for Godspell."

"I…" Dave wanted to go, but he was afraid. What would he become while working with these guys? Should he stay in New Orleans, move on to wherever SD was? What did he have to lose? What did he have to gain? "I don't know. What's SD?"

"San Diego…well, technically the La Jolla Playhouse, but close enough to Balboa Park, I suppose."

"Yeah, they've got a killer streetcar system and great bars and we know guys like everywhere."

Dave thought a moment. San Diego. In California. The ocean, the surf. And then he saw his hands, pale and dirty nails. The twenty bucks he had made was the first honest twenty bucks he could ever remember making. And Charlie and Howe weren't bad guys, just odd. They'd be okay with him writing to Kurt, maybe they'd be okay with him being gay. He'd just steer clear of anything about his past for now and hope for the best. "I've never seen San Diego."

Howe nodded. "You'll love it man. Best pizza on the coast."

Charlie butted in. "After Santa Cruz."

"Shut up," Howe rejoined, "we only go to Santa Cruz for the aquarium and Bubba Gump's."

"Speaking of food," Charlie said, "how about some dinner? Our treat, new guy."

Dave shook his head. "No, I couldn't take your money. I could just get some tacos on the cheap or something."

Howe chuckled. "That's cute. New guy that's not Bob thinks he has a choice."

"Dave."

"Not Bob."

"Dave."

"Don't make me come back there," Charlie gave off a fake warning voice.

"So…are we having some authentic New Orleans dinner or something?"

Charlie smiled. "Better. You think what I'm thinking?"

"I think so Brain," Howe quipped, "but how are we going to get baloney in all those rubber pants?"

Charlie ignored the reference. "We're stopping for Luthers."

"Luthers?" Dave quirked his head. "What's a Luther?"

Charlie's eyes lit up as he answered. "Only the best invention since the French toast sandwich, my friend! Imagine if you will, a hamburger. But not just any hamburger. A hamburger with donuts for a bun."

"That sounds…" Dave paused for a moment, then heard his stomach growl, "amazing."

"Duuuuuuude," Howe chuckled, "let's truck it as close as we can get to Yellow Round and make us some Luthers! Next stop, Houston!"

_I'll send a postcard to Kurt from there. Let him know I'm alright_, Dave thought. _Maybe things are lookin' up for good._


	12. Dave's Vision Quest

_This is the most depressing stretch of land I've ever seen_, Dave thought gloomily.

"This is the worst part of America," Howe groaned from the passenger seat. "Aren't we past the Hoover Dam yet?"

"We passed the Hoover Dam while you were sleeping," Charlie stated with boredom and a slight nasally irritation in his voice from the onset of dust allergies after his second morning cigarette, "or don't you remember?"

"I slept through that," Howe stated with righteous indignation.

"No," Charlie kidded, "you proceeded to half wake up, grip the door handle, and scream like a little girl."

"Where was I when all this was happening?" Dave asked.

"You were asleep too."

_Doubtful. I would've woken up to the screaming_, Dave thought. "Okay."

Howe tried to defend himself. "You know what? That is a scary drop-off on the Arizona side, I'm just saying."

And then there was Charlie with the rebuttal. "Girl."

"Drag Queen."

"Hillary Clinton."

"Republican."

"Too far, man, too far."

"Sorry."

There was silence after Charlie and Howe's umpteenth fake mini-blow out. Dave couldn't decide if he just wanted them to be lovers or best friends or what, but there was some tension there - maybe it was just the tension of spending every waking hour together. Maybe it just made them a couple. And for the first time since Kurt and Santana and Z, Dave was longing for that kind of companionship. He ached for a time when he could send Kurt a permanent address, find somewhere to put down roots. Find somewhere to not be ashamed anymore, to let the demons go and bid them never come back.

"Hey, wait!" Howe's eyes sparked. "That means we're almost to Barstow."

"Hells to the yeah," Charlie smirked with a quirked eyebrow.

"What's in Barstow?" Dave queried, leaning forward and clasping his hands lazily.

"Triple dipped chocolate malted milk balls," Charlie and Howe exclaimed together while the one not holding the steering wheel did a triumphant air guitar solo. "Oh, and they have other stuff. But it's the best Triple J in the country. We always stop there."

"No, you always stop there."

"You're just bitter because they don't have a Dennys for you, old man."

"I am gonna whoop you in the arcade."

_Oh God, _thought Dave_, is this really my future? What if they start actually fighting for real?_

Dave dozed on the non-comforting thought, picking up some orange slices at the truck stop and then proceeding to fall back asleep once the van was still on the road. They were close, so close, even when there was a traffic jam an hour outside of San Diego.

"What is it?" Dave asked.

"Don't know," Howe shrugged. He'd been driving since Triple J in Barstow. "Let's find out."

Charlie's snoring drowned out part of the static as Howe switched on the police scanner. He quirked his head and Dave watched as he leaned into all of what Dave heard to be a whisper. Then Howe proceeded to nod his head. "Okay, we've got an emergency: level beach ball."

"Wait," Dave started as Howe opened the driver's side door, "what does that mean?"

Dave's head popped out of his side of the van as he slid open the backside door to find Howe had grabbed a beach ball and was inflating it in the middle of stalled traffic. Howe simply continued to blow up the beach ball and then proceeded to speak when it was full. He tossed the ball to Dave. "Means it's a hold up and we've got a three hour wait to kill. Let's play. Other cars might join in if they see we're having fun."

Dave knocked the beach ball back to Howe out of reflex more than anything. "What about Charlie?"

Howe chuckled as he batted the ball back to Dave. "Charlie and I aren't attached at the hip. We can do stuff separate, Dave. What, you think we can't live without each other?"

"Well, you just seem to fight a lot."

"Oh, we get on each other's nerves all the time. We're brothers from another mother."

"Another mother?"

"Yes, and her name is theater. Don't you have any friends like that back at home, Dave?"

"No." Come to think of it, don't have a home either.

"Ah. Wanna talk about it?"

"It's complicated."

"What isn't?"

"Well," Dave thought for a moment while Howe played with a little blonde kid that toddled over with his pregnant mom for a moment as they were getting a bit of exercise, "I'm not proud of who I was."

"But you're changing it, or else you'd still be that person, right?"

"I…" Dave batted the ball back to the little kid when the little kid threw it his way. The mom shooed the kid away shortly after. "I think so."

"You must be, if you're on a vision quest."

"A vision quest? I'm really not."

"You're not? Do you know what a vision quest is?"

"Well yeah," Dave shrugged, "it's seeing animals in the wilderness that talk to you about life and stuff, right?"

Howe chuckled again, but it wasn't a condescending chuckle. That was something that Dave liked about Howe. "No, that's not all a vision quest is. A vision quest is about transformation more than anything. It's having a vision for something better and setting out to achieve that betterness for yourself. If you're gonna live on the Astroturf, you're gonna have to admit that that's who you are right now."

Dave barely missed catching the ball and it bounced back to Howe, deflating slightly. "Then I guess I am."

"Good. Time to get back in the van. I think our time's about up."

"Hey, get your asses back in the van before you get run over," came Charlie's sleepy voice.

"Yes sir," Dave and Howe said in unison.


	13. Meeting Kaz

Dave woke up to the smell of fried meat. Blinking, he saw Howe hovering over him holding something covered in shredded cheese.

"Morning sunshine," Howe stated cheerfully.

"Please tell me that you did not get Mexican food at nine in the morning," Dave commented casually, then began to sit up and stretch out his back with a slight groan. The Astroturf had not been kind to him in sleep.

"Pffft. You wish. It's like two in the afternoon. We're parked and headed to the beach soon to meet Kaz. It's Volleyball Thursday."

Dave followed Howe out of the van and over to a picnic table. There were regular looking tacos, a squishy white packaged thing that was probably a burrito, and whatever Howe was holding. That was not to count an array of condiments, Mexican soda, and honest-to-God churros. It was a themed buffet. The sky was clear and it was so quiet at the park and the food looked so good and Charlie was wearing a sombrero and a fake moustache. Well, besides Charlie's oddities things looked peaceful.

Dave sat down, taking a swig of the orange Mexican soda and Howe set down the cheese dish in front of him and he discovered crispy beef taquitos beneath the layer of cheese.

"Delicious," he mumbled with a full mouth.

Charlie nodded underneath his sombrero to Howe. "You have a gift man."

Howe smirked. "Guilty as charged."

"So," Dave continued while he swallowed, "who is this Kaz guy? And don't we have stuff to unload from the truck?"

"We unload the truck tomorrow morning when it catches up with us, unless you're that eager to wait at the playhouse. No, we'd rather see Kaz. He's an old friend from way back, runs a smoothie shack and has weekly volleyball games for all his underlings. We like to catch up with him when we can. Plus, beach time. Always nice."

"Sounds good," Dave said, "never seen the beach before. Rusty on the volleyball end but it can't be that hard. What am I gonna wear, though? It's not like I have swim trunks."

"Eh," Howe shrugged, "just roll up your pant legs like we do. You might get some sand in the cuffs, but it'll be all right."

Dave was glad that Howe and Charlie knew where they were headed because he was sure that he'd get lost in San Diego before anything else. All the streets seemed to go one way but everything led to another on-ramp and streetcars had their own monorail system and Dave felt queasy from the greasy taquitos and the rampant disorientation that seemed to have become his life.

All that being said, La Jolla was a beautiful city. There were little bar shacks and fudge shops lining the street all the way up to the beach. And the beach itself was this vast expanse of land with no end in sight. From gold to blue with dots of green seaweed and back again. It felt so immense and brisk and yet the little kids and the adults all seemed to embrace the small feeling, enjoying the sun and sand and surf.

The water was crystal clear and beautiful. Dave had trouble just watching the water as they walked the course way around the sand. There were other things to watch too. Muscular men on rollerblades, women in bikinis making barbecue and margaritas. There was something everywhere to look, almost too much, like a sensual overload. Dave was almost grateful for it, this was the first time he'd gotten any sort of reaction from himself like this since Kurt.

Hope? Well, he wasn't sure if it was hope. Self-gratification was more like it.

Charlie and Howe kept walking the course way, though, never venturing out onto the sand and laughing and talking in their own little world. _Of course they would take this for granted_, Dave thought,_ they've seen the ocean before_. But Dave was still cautious about venturing off on his own. If he got lost, he'd be worse off than ever before.

The volleyball courts appeared around a bend about half a mile from where they had parked the van. There wasn't anybody there yet and Dave wondered for a moment if he shouldn't have brought sunscreen or at least a hat. Charlie and Howe stopped short of the volleyball courts at an opening in the barricade between the walkway and started to peel off their shoes and socks.

"So, where is everybody?" Dave wondered aloud.

Charlie was already on his second shoe before too long. "We're early man. Gonna take a dip in the ocean first."

"We're actually surprised you haven't run ahead of us like a puppy chasing a chicken or something, most ocean newbies do," Howe added.

"It's cool," Dave offered. _I just wasn't relishing the thought of being lost_. "I mean, you guys wanna see me acting like an idiot in the ocean, right?"

Charlie shook his head. "Sure. If you make it in the water that is."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Howe slipped his hands in his shoes and took off like a lightning bolt, turning back to Dave and Charlie. "Come find out, Dave!"

Dave realized he was lagging behind in third and scrambled to get his shoes off. He was gaining on Howe the closer he got but then he felt a surge of wave and yelped. "Oh my god!"

"It's cold!" All three said in unison.

Dave stood near the shore. "Jerk faces," he rallied in mock anger.

"Get in the water! It warms up the more you're in it."

"Yeah! Fish pee in this thing."

"That's not helpful," Howe countered as he and Charlie began to tread water.

Then the usual playful banter became a splashing contest. They lost sight of Dave inching closer and closer, biting down his lip to keep from yelping._ It is a stone cold **lie** that it warms up the closer you get_, Dave thought. _This water never gets above forty degrees I'd bet!_

But eventually he was there, able to tackle dive his new friends. And the water stung his eyes something fierce but it was the ocean and it was brilliant and he was free! A bright shining moment and then…

"Hey Kaz! Over here!"

_Okay, somebody said something_, Dave thought, _and I'm sure I'm still at the ocean. Yep! There are the waves and the water's tilting me every which way but Sunday. And I'm still in my body but I have, there is, my God do they even make guys to look like that?_

And what was worse for Dave was that Kaz just kept coming, jogging over to where they were on the sand. He was wearing white basketball shorts and no shoes and his skin was a perfect shade of tan, natural and not overdone. His hair was long enough to flop about in the breeze but short enough to still look like he could style it if need be. It was unkempt with just a hint of natural green at the tips, as though he spent time in a chlorine pool on a daily basis. His arms and legs were defined without being too thick and he looked like he'd never seen a calorie in his entire life.

"Dave…Dave!"

_How long have I been staring_? Kaz was at the edge of the shore and both Howe and Charlie had managed to get out of the water. Dave wanted to stay in, mortified and unable to hide the fact that he was at half-mast. But then he thought that that was all the ammunition Charlie and Howe would ever need again and they would be insufferable after that.

"I'm coming," Dave stated and rose to get out of the water just as a wave crashed over him. He did manage to fumble to shore, grabbing some seaweed as a hand hold. He tumbled forward, hand outstretched to meet Kaz and did manage to find the very attractive man's grip.

"Sorry about that, name's Dave."

"We picked him up in New Orleans, drove him straight out to meet you Kaz," Charlie teased. Dave started to blush, was having trouble meeting Kaz's dark eyes.

Kaz laughed. "You letting these guys bust your chops? You need me to knock their heads together?"

Dave shook his head, finally finding his vocabulary ungluing from his windpipe. "Nope. Considering without me they probably wouldn't have even gotten here."

"Hey! You slept most of the time!" Howe balked indignantly.

"And you've never even been to California."

"Well, good for you," Kaz grinned and slapped Dave's bicep. Dave was all of a sudden very aware of how pale and flabby and sopping wet he seemed in comparison to Kaz's flawless run on the beach. "Don't let these two knuckleheads knock all over you."

Charlie shook his head. "Don't make us sic Jenny on you."

Kaz put his hands on his hips after a moment. "If you think that'll do you any good, I dare you."

Howe squinted his eyes. "Less talk, more volleyball."

Kaz nodded. "You're on, bitches."

Looking back, Dave knew there was a game. He knew because he dived at the ball and got a mouthful of sand at least once. He also knew that Jenny and Kaz were close because of the way he hugged her and the fact that she was young and lean and sexy in her blue bikini top and olive cargo shorts. There were other players on the field, some very talented and some already too drunk to be talented. But none of them looked like Kaz to David.

"Great game, I haven't played volleyball since junior year in the gym," Dave coughed through his irritated throat after the game had finished. He felt like he'd never get rid of all the sand. "I must have sucked something fierce."

"Nonsense," Howe said cheerily as they sauntered back to the truck with an ever-dwindling group. He clapped his hand down on Dave's shoulder. "You were at least good as Tatianna half sober."

"Which is better than me on most days," Charlie added.

It was true of course. The out of town team had never stood a chance but the somewhat drunk players on the opposing team had at least given them the illusion. They reached one of the locker rooms that occasionally dotted the beach. It was getting late and the beach was mostly emptied except for groups like theirs, on their way home.

"Oh Thank God," Charlie groaned. "I can get the sand out of these things."

Howe shook his head as he followed his best friend. "Well, maybe you shouldn't braid them so tightly. I mean, after all, you're not really making any statement other than look at all the hair I have! And hi, lots of frizz here."

Their voices whined in echo from the inner part of the locker room. "Stop making such a big fuss, you spoiled sport, or I'll drag your ass through the seaweed again."

Dave watched them disappear and found he had trouble swallowing. It was just him and Kaz left outside now and Kaz was already heading for the door. He turned and looked at Dave innocuously. "Coming Dave?"

"I, uh, no towel or change of clothes."

"Yeah, but you can't get into the pizza shack looking like Beach Thing."

Dave shook his head. "How you guys can think of eating pizza at a time like this…"

"Well," Kaz chuckled, "some of us didn't swallow a pound of sand."

"Yeah?" Dave retorted, "well some of us can shoot well from the net."

"Touche. But seriously, you'll get all grimy and irritated. Come on, dude, we don't bite. Well, I mean, they don't. I might, if you're into that sort of thing."

Kaz playfully slapped Dave a little, causing Dave to squirm and he turned so Kaz wouldn't see how effective he was being in turning him on. But then, there wasn't any more point in arguing. He was able to move slowly enough that Charlie and Howe were already in the private shower stalls by the time he got in. He stripped quickly enough just in case Kaz decided to show up. He found that his body was unabashedly attracted to the idea of Kaz showing up and so he got into the closest stall and took what would hopefully be the quickest shower of his life.

But nothing was ever that simple. "Hey, do you have? Oh good, you do."

Dave thought for a moment that he had literally jumped outside of his skin. His hands clamped around his private parts, though the soap and the feeling of his hands around his dick, untouched since Stone Eagle, was actually probably less helpful than he realized.

"Just need to borrow some soap from the dispenser thing. I'm out," Kaz said casually as he slipped into the stall. He noticed how tense Dave was and shook his head. "Oh yeah, not from Cali. Okay, sorry. I'll go."

Dave felt silly for wanting to defend himself at that point but replied anyways. "No, it's…I mean, I played football but guys just…." _What? What is that I'm saying now? Can you hear yourself over the sound of your hypocrisy, Dave?_

Kaz continued to stand there, stark naked and getting wetter and wetter from Dave's shower nozzle and talking as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Dave was acutely aware of how close Kaz's skin was and if he just looked down… well, he made himself continue to look up, at least at Kaz's collar bone. "And I played water polo. You think you wouldn't be so…oh."

Kaz grinned.

_Oh God_, Dave thought, _he's grinning_.

Kaz moved closer, hand over Dave's hands. _Too low_, thought Dave, _his brain trying to fire at all cylinders_. "What about Charlie and Howe?" he finally managed to ask.

"Talk a little louder, maybe they'll hear," Kaz nearly whispered._ Too close, bodies too close_. And then, they were touching. Everything was touching. "And I don't think you want that."

Kaz's hand felt different, Kaz's everything felt different. Dave didn't look, didn't have the heart. He only felt the groan escape his lips and then an eternity or a moment before his knees began to weaken and Kaz was…he was making this face like bliss or concern or…

And then it was, well it was over. And Dave was just standing there spent but still rock hard and Kaz was just standing there as if to say _See? Not as scary as you thought, right?_ And then he was leaving the stall because what more is there to say, really? Not much until he threw Dave a towel.


	14. Dave's Third Worst Nightmare

_Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale_

_A tale of a fateful trip_

Charlie had started singing soon after they had left the locker room. They were still moseying along the course way but it seemed like it was just the four of them at the beach now. The sun was just beginning to set and it was only moments before the glare hit the water. It was maybe the most beautiful thing Dave had ever seen. Too bad he couldn't relish it.

_That started from this tropic port_

_Aboard this tiny ship_

Howe put his arm around Charlie's shoulders and began to sway in time until they were actually singing together. They didn't sound half bad to Dave, when he wasn't listening to the echo in his own head. How had what just happened actually happened?

_The mate was a mighty sailing man_

_The skipper brave and sure_

Didn't he have a girlfriend- that girl Jenny? And even if he didn't, guys just didn't do that sort of thing, did they? I mean, how many other guys had he done that with? Dave tortured himself with the thought of Kaz's attractive nature. Hell, if I looked like that, Dave thought, I would have.

And then Kaz's arm was around him, slipping around his tense shoulders. Kaz was pretending like nothing had happened, like nothing in the axis of the earth had changed. All while singing a goddamn tv show intro. Kaz found Dave wasn't as compliant in the whole singing and swaying thing as Charlie and Howe.

_Some passengers set sail that day_

_On a three hour tour_

_A three hour tour…_

The song petered out then due to a lack of general enthusiasm and the foursome lapsed into silence, though for Dave it wasn't exactly comfortable. He tried concentrating on the ocean he was falling in love with but all the while his thoughts turned to Kaz. The parts he hadn't seen, the things that had gone unspoken. The things he had seen and that grin. The weight and tension flowing out of him with his orgasm.

And yet…

There was something abnormal about sitting down to New York style pizza after it all. They had come to this place called Pizza My Heart and the slices were obnoxiously large-not that Dave was complaining, just stating a fact, almost bigger than the plates themselves.

The topping selections were simple (the most exotic looking thing there was the Hawaiian pizza) and they sat on a concrete patio adjacent to the actual restaurant. There was a sound system set up and it looked as though some guy was crooning to his girlfriend, maybe proposing to her? Dave wasn't sure he wanted to be interfering with that but then he did seem kinda drunk too. Trashed. Singing. It hit Dave like a ton of bricks in the back of a cement truck running along a highway of black ice after a winter rain storm.

They were at a karaoke thing.

Dave's body reacted to this information with a slight panic attack. And then Kaz's arm was draped over his shoulder, the slice of pizza Kaz was eating almost under Dave's nose. Kaz lacked table manners just ever so slightly, but the pizza was definitely a contributor to the chaos.

"So, what'cha think Dave? I don't think he's half bad. Bit hokey for my taste thought."

"I…uhhh," Okay. Dave could admit that it helped having Kaz there. He tried to get up, but Howe intervened from the other side.

"Where ya going? You can't be hungry for another slice, you've still got most of your pepperoni."

"I…uhhh," Apparently, Dave was feeling particularly verbal this evening. His brain clicked into gear enough to find the word bathroom but it was too late at the point. Charlie was piping in then.

"You aren't trying to escape to the bathroom before you sing, are you Dave? You can't do that. It's against the rules."

"Singing? Rules? I don't…"

Charlie and Howe looked at each other. "Wait until you hear us. Then you'll be just fine. Sit down, you're embarrassing us. Ooh, he's going for the high note."

Dave couldn't tell you if that guy hit his high note. He was concentrating hard on the fact that this may have been the living embodiment of his worst nightmare. Second worst. Okay, third worst nightmare. Even the phrase "karaoke night" at Scandals had made him shudder and some of those people had been marginally worse than the most awful singing life form on the planet.

But Dave was really stuck at the whims of his hostes. Howe and Kaz were blocking him in and it looked like they had no intention of letting him go. Worst yet, when the books came around, Howe had grabbed the black binder of choices from Dave's hand.

"Oh no," Howe had quipped, "you don't get off that easily."

Dave toyed momentarily with telling them he needed his inhaler, which would be a hard lie to pull off considering he'd been traveling cross country with them and they'd never even seen as much as an asthma attack from dust. No, Dave had to settle miserably into his fate but he voiced a protest every now and again.

"But, can I just…"

"No…."

"I promise I won't…."

"Stop arguing Dave. We're doing this for your own good."

"C'mon guys, I…"

"You're just making it harder on yourself. Hey! I want to…"

"No," the two others had said in unison.

Dave's palms got sweatier and sweatier by the moment. He thought he might actually have an asthma attack from the anxiety of it all. But then they were at least kind enough to let him go last. Which he was grateful for when he heard Charlie and Howe's rendition of Summer Lovin' from Grease. When they were trying to sing, they were…well, they were awful. If he sounded like a dying walrus…

The thought trapped him for a moment. Guilt. He was here, enjoying karaoke and pizza and the company of at least one gentleman he found attractive and Skye was….Skye was gone. Skye had sacrificed for him and maybe he'd want Dave to enjoy this but that wasn't…what was the point of what Skye had done for him?

"Who wants to hear some rock n' roll?" Kaz's voice boomed through the microphone. The chair next to Dave was suddenly vacant. He could bolt for it. He wanted to bolt for it. But, in the end, he couldn't. He just couldn't do much more than enjoy Kaz acting like a rock star. He was a crowd favorite, crowing before the start of his song with his hands pumped victoriously in the air.

No one got louder claps and whistles during a rendition of "Welcome to the Jungle" than him.

And then someone was shoving the microphone of doom into Dave's hands. Dave's eyes went wide. The entire room seemed to be both stopping silent and spinning loudly at the same time. His knees and hands felt shaky. Was he breathing? Was he alive?

Well, he must be alive because he found himself being lead up onstage by his friends. Howe had to practically pry the microphone from his tightening grip in order to give him an intro.

"Okay, everyone. This is our friend Dave. He's new to California and he's a little bit shy, so give him a warm welcome and let's show him some sunshine state hospitality!"

"What song am I doing?" Dave hissed in a moment of clarity.

"You'll know it. And we'll be your back up dancers. You'll be fine, even if you sound like a dying walrus or something," Charlie spoke low as he moved back.

Dying walrus. More coincidence or fate? And just what made them think that Dave would know the song? The music was starting and it did sound kind of familiar. But the only singing he'd ever done was with Mr. Schuester's class and he didn't know to really, you know, start on his own.

_Sometimes I feel I've got to_

The first notes crackled darkly in his throat. He had to clear to get it right but then it started to sound okay.

**Clap. Clap.**

Dave was startled to have people clapping for him in the background, but Charlie, Howe, and Kaz were being as good as their word.

_Run away, I've got to_

**Stomp stomp**

Had…had someone in the front row joined in the clamping with a stomp?

_Get away from the pain that you drive into the heart of me_

_The love we shared_

Background echoes: Woah

_Seems to go nowhere_

_And I've lost my light_

_And I toss and turn, I can't sleep at night_

Dave felt his intense frowning brow lighten a little as he let go. He did know this song, kind of. And their were lyrics. And no one felt like killing him, so that was a plus. It was…maybe…was he having…fun?

_Once I ran to you_

_Now I run from you_

_This tainted love you've given_

_I give you all a boy can give you_

Dave felt his grip on the microphone lessen just a bit, the feeling in his hand beginning to return. He was beginning to look out into the audience. There were no pitchforks. Maybe it was just karaoke, not the end of the world.

_Take my tears and that's not nearly_

_Oh, tainted love_

_Tainted love_

_Now I know I've got to_

He clapped along with "his background dancers".

_Run away, I've got to get away_

_You don't really want anymore from me_

_To make things rights_

_You need someone to hold you tight._

Then Dave did something he didn't expect. He moved the microphone so he could mimic praying.

_And you think love is to pray_

And he was shaking his head.

_But I'm sorry I don't pray that way_

He pointed back playfully to his "background dancers". This elicited a chorus of whoos from the audience that Dave wouldn't so forget.

_Once I ran from you_

_Now I run to you_

The screen suddenly went blank and the music dark. In fact, the entire block looked like it had suddenly been cut off. There was a chorus of awwws from the audience but no immediate demands for more artificial light. There were enough from the tiki torches. And then they were clapping.

They were clapping for Dave Karofsky.

And Howe and Charlie were giving him bro hugs.

"You were great!"

"You've been holding out on us you big jerk!"

Dave shook his head. "I'm not…I don't…"

And there was that smile. That Kaz smile and a clap. Dave was glad it was almost dark because Kaz couldn't see how he was affecting Dave.


	15. Dave's First Day

"So, where are we going with this stuff?" Dave asked as he pivoted and unloaded the glass cubes from inside the storage unit into the back of Gertrude.

"So what's really sweet about the La Jolla Playhouse is that they have this great breezeway that other houses don't have. Like the Lincoln in Washington, for instance," Howe answered as he grabbed another of the cubes. "That's basically a glorified movie theater so the sets are smaller but most of the storage space isn't for storage, it becomes costume and make-up territory."

Charlie squinted, moving his fingers around to make sure there was enough Tetris mojo to fit everything from this trip. "I don't mind the Lincoln. It's a challenge."

"That's cause you got your start there."

"Yeah, and I think it's cheating that Dave gets to start out at LJP. Seems unfair somehow, like the cosmos likes him best."

"Middle child syndrome," Howe murmured low though he knew fairly well that Charlie could still hear him, "it's always somebody else that's liked better."

"I'm just saying! It took 4 years for me to see the inside of the LJP."

"I'm…sorry?" Dave finally landed on the apology for the toes he didn't even know he was stepping on.

Charlie merely shrugged. "Que nada. I mean, its not like you planned this or anything. Did you?"

"Definitely not," Dave reassured Charlie. "So what do we have left?"

"Not much in this trip." Howe answered as he stood to wipe a bit of sweat from his brow. "Godspell's a great piece because its low maintenance on set design but we spend most of the show ferreting props, doing the ladder dance with onstage set stuff, and setting out the redo for the Jesus makeup. I do not envy Jesus in this thing."

Dave stood with a hand on his hips as he caught his breath. Glass cubes were heavier than they appeared. He was feeling the out-of-shape thing. "So, you guys do know that I'd never even heard of Godspell until I met you, right?"

"Oh yeah, you're a theater newb," Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent a sneeze before he continued, "keep forgetting. Godspell Jesus is the hardest role in this production because he never leaves the stage. Never. So reapplication of make-up (at least from the people who do that sort of stuff's point of view) is tricky because he's always somewhere the audience can see."

"And as much as we love our little perch in the wings, it's a real bitch to try and flag him down to change out his microphone pack if it dies. And I super don't want that to happen to Nando…again."

"What happened?"

"This is the second and last time he's saying he'd play Jesus," Howe explained. "I don't know how he said yes again what with the chain link crucifixion scene. You know how hard it is to prop yourself up that long?"

"Can't be any harder than a football tackle."

Howe and Charlie shared a look. "We'll table the issue until you've actually seen what he has to put up with during the scene. Then you can get back to us."

Once they were done loading, Dave scooted into the little bit of space he had between driver and passenger, most of his frame wedged with stuff. He only heard the door slam and hoped it was shut tight. He didn't relish losing any of this random crap on the road.

_It would be easier_, Dave conceded,_ if each company had their own permanent playhouse like a football stadium. Then they wouldn't need storage sheds. I wonder how expensive that would really be? You could rent out the space and stuff during the day._

"Phone's goin' off again," Charlie shook his head. And it was true, the text vibration was doing a mambo in one of the free cup holders.

"You gonna answer it?" Howe looked almost straight at Dave since Dave was so far forward that he probably could have shifted for Charlie had the need been there.

Dave shrugged, biting down on his lip. "I don't know. I thought I wasn't going to but if he's gonna keep asking this much and it's not like…"

"So you are attracted to him."

"We should get going guys," Dave stalled, "we still have to meet the rest of the light and sound crew right? That's not a thing we do is it?"

"Ah, evasion," Charlie crooked his eyebrow, "I know that tactic well."

"The better tactic," Howe answered with, "is to keep the car parked until Dave answers the question that way we can blame the new guy if we're late. You can answer the question right? I mean, you know we're not gonna judge you man."

Dave nodded, looking down at one shoe he could see. "I know. I just…it's not that simple."

Charlie furrowed his brow. "No, it kinda is. You're either feeling it or you're not. Now come on, Dave, long day ahead of us. We can only proceed if we know what's going on."

"Not just being nosy?" Dave enquired.

Charlie mimicked the scout salute. "Scout's honor."

Howe made a noise in his throat. "You were never a scout, doofus."

"Hey, I coulda been if the troop hadn't moved without telling me. I was technically a Webelos. Webelos now, Webelos forever."

"Not with the hair you're not. Dave, come on man, it's just us."

"Okay." Dave took a deep breath. "I guess I kinda am but it worries me because well, he's attractive and I know that it's not a big deal to date a lot in California and …"

"Ah." Howe nodded as Charlie started the van. "You're worried about his past."

"And mine," Dave conceded.

"Well I say good for you for not saying yes right away if at all, Davey boy," Charlie smiled cheerfully, "it's just what he needs for that ego of his."

"Ego? He didn't really seem to have an ego to me."

"That's because you were blinded by looove," Charlie teased and then stopped when he saw Dave's face in one of the mirrors.

Howe was right behind him. "What Charlie means in his own horrible way is that Kaz knows he's attractive and he's always used to a quick yes and not necessarily a one-night stand but the pick of the litter."

"You're not helping my confidence."

"What I mean is," Howe continued despite Dave's interruption as Charlie drove and nodded along, "that Kaz is generally a good guy but he knows he's a good guy and knows he gets what he wants because he's funny and handsome and can have any guy or girl he wants."

_He'll never pick me then_, Dave thought darkly._ He's like Sebastian on the West Coast, just less jerky_. "What if I don't want him to pick me?"

Charlie smirked. "Well, you must on some level. Otherwise you would have never given us the ammo against you to tell Kaz you think he's….sorry, I'm used to teasing Howe about that."

Dave blinked. "Wait…"

Howe squinted at Charlie, shooting fake daggers. "I walk in on him changing one time during that water polo competition and you just can't let it go, can you?"

"I tell you, you were gone for at least ten more minutes than you should have been. And you never offer an explanation. What's a poor lonely boy to think?"

Howe snorted. "I am gonna kill you til' you're dead."

"Please bitch, you love me. And we're turning and we're….here!" Charlie added a little cheerful note at the end as they pulled up to the side of the building where the actors would come in and out for call time and autographs. Dave imagined the back-up beep as Charlie did a perfect three point into the space he needed, quite an achievement considering Gertrude's size.

Mel was meeting them at the back door, her ever-present walkie talkie in the holster to her side. She raised her arms to give the van clearance and then gave them a thumbs-up.

"Right on time," Dave heard the voice of a thirty something woman say as Charlie opened the driver's side door.

"Which means we're ten minutes late," Howe quipped as he left his door open so Dave could struggle out ungraciously.

Mel nodded at Dave, noticing her hair was dyed purple and pulled back in a ponytail. "You guys know you've got a stray?"

Charlie pointed at Dave as he walked up to shake her hand. "This is Dave. We picked him up in Louisiana. He's our new intern."

"What happened to the other guy?"

"He bailed," Howe stated flatly as he opened the side door. "But that was pretty lucky for us. This Dave guy is a gem."

Dave shook his head. "They're just saying that. I doubt I'll be much of a gem."

Mel chuckled. "My God, listen to him. Poor humble bastard. Well, Howe and Charlie'll have you cured of that before too long."

Howe grabbed the first cube he could get his hands on. "Hey! We're not the rebels with purple hair dye."

"You noticed?"

Charlie nodded approvingly. "Of course we did. You were a permed blonde last time we saw you. Say hey, who else we got on crew?"

Mel's lips twisted thoughtfully as her walkie talkie squawked some unintelligible garbage and then beeped twice. She reached for it to answer after Charlie. "Well, Lindsay's doing some make-up but she's also doing Cabaret make-up down at Pavilion, so we've got her half time. And you're gonna love this- Newman's back from his break."

"Newman!" Charlie and Howe shouted. "Huzzah!"

"Like I said," Mel began and then pressed a button down to talk into her little yellow device, "repeat? Did you get the cherry picker centered for the….damn it, stop playing with…okay, I'm on my way. Nando said ten for the try-out and Emma…"

She disappeared through a stage side door as she talked.

Howe pointed with a free elbow to the space she had occupied. "That's Mel, our boss and general stage manager for Godspell. Guess Suzy got the directing job she wanted."

"We'll have to congratulate her when we see her," Charlie stated. "Okay intern, grab a cube and we'll get started showing you the ropes."

"Are you gonna call me intern for the whole show?"

"Could be worse," Howe shrugged, "He might start calling you Not Bob again. Then it'll be your nickname til the end of time."


	16. Gives Hell Week A Whole New Meaning

Dave hadn't realized that techies really stepped in at hell week (aka tech week among the acting folks) and that there was a lot to be done. He was glad he didn't fiddle with costumes or make-up much because it was a lot of information to keep in order. It always seemed like Mel or Suzy had some sort of clipboard and walkie-talkies near their cheeks.

He liked being a techie in a lot of ways. He could take a break every now and then for a breath of fresh Californian air, he never could seem to get enough of that, and people mainly left him alone when he was doing a good job. Which he did. It was surprising to him that he had something of a knack for it.

Dave was the guy to run the heavy stuff, the glass cubes. He could time himself across the stage in thirty seconds easy after two days. He could dance around the spot lights thanks to football training. He was almost like a heavy-set ninja and he took pride in what he was doing. He wasn't really making much money, it was more like a stipend, but the La Jolla Playhouse had a deal with USC-LJ so that he slept in the summer dorms instead of having to deal with three crowded guys in a shag-lined van.

Things were going really well for him. Or so Dave thought. Truth was, he spent most of his time pushing away thoughts of Kaz and Kurt and what had been and what could be. It was difficult to shut his brain off and he found himself walking along the beach when he could get away. A lot.

He liked the beach. It was a reminder of how small and inconsequential he and his problems really were. He ached for Kurt, thought, and then was terrified when sometimes that ache was for Kaz. And Kaz was unavoidable in a way. At least once a week, he'd play volleyball with his new friends and every time it got harder and harder to not be afraid, to come up with excuses, to build walls of resistance.

A part of him thought that Kaz might actually enjoy the chase more than anything. And it was getting harder to find things to write Kurt about. He wished he had something to tell Kurt that didn't just seem like he was barely making it through.

Perhaps he should have rethought that before he wished for it.

It came at the tail end of tech week, which was a misnomer and was actually almost three weeks long. Dave was up on the cherry picker they were using for the "O Bless the Lord" number and he was putting the finishing paint touches on the top layers of some sort of rainbow thing that signified….what? Joy? Freedom? The whole play thing seemed to be above him or maybe it was just something theater people used to put up a superior front.

In any case, neither Charlie nor Howe had wanted to be up that far. They did not enjoy the way the top level shook into the spacious air when you dipped down for more paint and had to stretch in certain spots to get an even coat. It didn't really bother Dave….that much. They still had things to tape anyways and he hated picking bits of colored tape out of his nails at the end of the day. It was perfect really.

And then he heard it.

"Dave can sing."

_What?_

"Yeah. He's got a great baritenor register. At least from what we've heard."

_What?_

"Hey Dave!"

_No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening._

"Dave? Can you hear us?"

_I can't hear them. This is a dream. I'll wake up and make coffee and pour orange juice and…_

"I think he can hear us. His paintbrush isn't moving."

"Man, get down here."

Dave was tempted to ignore Howe, Charlie, and Mel. He liked them. He really did. But he didn't sing. In fact, he really hadn't since Tainted Love. He'd begged it off each time and afterwards no one had said anything. This was retaliation for that. This was clear to Dave.

Dave felt himself descend slowly in the cherry picker. Time. Slow time. Crawling minutiae minutes like beads of sweat upon his forehead. Dry throat, parched throat.

"Hey. Sorry, I know you were calling my name but…"

Mel waved Dave off before he could finish his apology. "No. That's fine. So Dave, what's this about you being able to sing and holding out on us when you knew we needed understudies?"

She seemed to be giving him one of those "hairy eyeball" looks that he'd kind of seen Kurt giving Sebastian ages ago. "I mean…I don't, not really. They just, we were screwing around and I…"

"Nonsense, Dave!" Charlie broke in with a chipper falsetto. "You've got a great voice!"

"Don't listen to him," Howe added, "he just doesn't know how he sounds."

**_Stop helping!_** Dave's brain was firing on all cylinders, torpedoes aimed and readied at Howe and Charlie. Didn't they know he had a policy to NEVER go through anything like this in all of his life?

Mel was staring at him. But the stare didn't seem…did it seem angry? He couldn't tell, couldn't read what she was trying to say. They hadn't really spoke beyond that first meeting and beyond a bag of tacos that had been donated by one of the disciple's grandmothers. "We need a John the Baptist understudy in case Hunter breaks his leg biking. It's not like I'm asking for another Jesus understudy. We've got that. Can you do it?"

"I…"

"He can and will." Howe stated.

"I…."

"Good. It won't take away from your duties as techie much. We'll just do some maneuvering with the cube stuff. We'll get your music to the techie box and you can rehearse a little. It's nothing too complicated for a first timer. Not too many lines and you know about our baptism scene. And with the full disciple cast and an individual Judas, its only ten minutes at the beginning. Tops."

Mel was in her own little world then, pointing and talking more to herself. Dave? Dave was just an item on her list that was having an internal melt down. The entire world seemed to be folding in on itself and sinking like quicksand.

"Dave? Dave?"

Dave registered Howe's arm on his shoulder, a concerned look on his face. "How…how could you do that to me?"

Howe blinked, something behind his eyes clicking into place. "You don't know, do you? You don't think you're good enough."

Dave backed up a step, or maybe he thought he did. Reality might have bent around his foot for all he knew. "How could you do that to me? I don't…I would never do that to you!"

Charlie shook his head. Perhaps he was used to hysterical actors? _Oh God_, Dave thought as he threw up in his mouth a little, _did I just think of myself as an actor?_ "It's not a big deal. Did you know I had to be the understudy and actually went on once for the Ghost of Christmas Past in Scrooged two years ago in Virginia? That's a girl part man. There were tights involved. Tights."

"So this is….this is normal?" Dave's voice felt like sandpaper.

Howe's hand left his shoulder. "It's not unheard of. Dave, you don't have to do it."

"You don't seem to be giving me a choice!" Dave heard the low growl in his own throat, a menacing sound. He was backing up. The world was turning red.

"Dave. Dave man, are you gonna…"

"I have to…I have to get out of here for a minute. I can't….You can't…"

Dave left without much of another word. He was still holding his paint from having stepped off the scaffolding of the cherry picker and just continued gripping it. He was angry, confused, hurt. They hadn't asked his permission, just assumed this was what he wanted. He felt ambushed, attacked in a way. There was this expectation that he wanted to be the center of something but he couldn't. He didn't. The things that had happened…

Dave's brain sputtered rage and depressed anger, cold fury at everything, at the disappointment that he couldn't enjoy something that maybe he could use to link himself better to Kurt. And then he felt fury that he was so far away from Kurt. Kurt could have calmed him, could have made him seem reason. Kurt had been good at that.

He found himself walking until he was at Starbucks, ordering a grande mocha latte from a girl at the counter named Emily. He barely got his name out on the order and stood there waiting for it, almost calmly. Doing a great impression of calmly. Dave was glad she hadn't asked him how his day was going without any of the extra politeness that he sometimes got when things were slow there.

"Well, what a surprise."

Dave didn't want to turn around. He knew the voice.

_Don't turn around, Don't turn around._

His body wasn't listening. He turned to face Kaz.


	17. Dave, Coffee, Kaz

For a moment, Dave didn't respond to Kaz. Kaz was just standing there ripping open a straw liner for his frappacino and doing that little twisty grin thing with his lips that Dave hadn't thought about. At all. But Dave knew he couldn't avoid talking forever. That would just make this worse.

"Kaz, how are you?"

"How are you? Seriously, dude?"

"Ummm…nice day?"

Kaz shook his head. "Fine. No, that's fine. I won't even ask about why you're carrying a paintbrush."

Dave grabbed for his latte just as the barista was starting to call his name. He tailed Kaz and opened the lid to sprinkle some cinnamon in and give it a stir. Kaz didn't seem intent on walking away and Dave really wasn't super in the mood for bullshit the way his day was going.

"What's fine?"

Kaz quirked one eyebrow and sighed, shaking his head. He then proceeded to sit down at a nearby table and take out a paperback book, a dog eared copy of the Prisoner of Azkaban. Dave stood in front of Kaz's table.

"Hello?"

Kaz turned one page and continued reading. Dave wondered if he knew his lips moved with each word and he could pretty much read the book if he continued staring. He felt stupid for standing and sat down soon enough.

"Okay…so you're not talking to me now. Is this about that tackle at the last game?"

Kaz closed his book and set it down. He took a sip of his frappacino and then looked up at Dave. He didn't look hurt, just amused. "Why would we talk to each other? I'm obviously not important enough for you to answer my calls, just to play volleyball with, so I'm just going to do what I normally do on my day off."

Dave blinked. "You think I've just been polite because of Charlie and Howe?"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna bet those are the same guys who've probably been telling you how much I sleep around."

"Don't talk about them like that. They're good guys."

Kaz nodded, his normally carefree face suddenly very tired. "And they travel around the country in a goddamn Mystery Machine shirking responsibility and suddenly I'm a man whore because I jerk off their new intern."

Dave looked around the Starbucks uncomfortably. This probably wasn't the best conversation to have out in the open. "Is that why you think I didn't call you back?"

"Don't know what other reason you'd have. Seems to me you've at least enjoyed some of our time together."

Dave snorted through his nose. It didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't talking about the volleyball court. "You're not wrong but that's not enough for a relationship."

"Okay…." Kaz cocked his head. "Did anyone say anything about a relationship?"

"Usually when someone keeps calling and calling like that, it means either a date or a booty call." _And I've been spending a lot of time trying to convince myself that I don't want either._

"Why is that the only option? I genuinely thought we might become friends, you know real close friends." His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, teasingly.

Honestly, Dave had been wondering that himself. Why he couldn't just have the same fun that other nineteen year olds were having before they left for school. But instead, Dave looked around for a moment before he responded. He wasn't a fan of talking about that sort of thing in public. In Starbucks, of all places, where kids might be around at any moment. "But you…you touched me. We can't just be friends after that."

Kaz took a sip of his drink. "Maybe where you're from."

Dave nodded. He wanted to scream **_duh!_** But ended up with a more refined, "Yeah. That's how it works in the real world."

"The real world? You live in a van."

"I sleep in summer dorms and intern as a techie."

Kaz bit down on his lip. "You know, Dave, I've been pretty patient with you but I'm not gonna wait for you to get the stick out of your butt. Yes, I like sex. It makes me feel good. Get over it. But I don't want to spend my day off after having to fire one of my best employees sitting here arguing with you about the merits of healthy relationships. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Kaz reached for his book and so did Dave instinctively. Kaz's hand was warm. Dave had forgotten how warm another hand could feel. "Wait…I'm sorry. I guess we're both having really bad days."

Kaz's hand slipped out from beneath Dave's. "Well, I suppose that's better than a swift kick in the ass. I've lived here all my life and sometimes I forget…forget that not everywhere is the same as here."

Dave looked down at his latte. "Yeah. It's beautiful here. I, uh, I really like the beach."

"They don't have beaches in New Orleans? Isn't that on the Gulf Coast?"

Dave let the silence hang for a moment. "If they do, I've never been there. I'm not from New Orleans. That's just where they found me."

"Ah. So where are you from then?"

"I…it's complicated."

"The place you're from is complicated?"

"Yeah."

Kaz nodded and then folded his hands in front of him so they were over the book. Dave had moved in hand back somewhere around the mention of New Orleans in order to nurse his latte. Which wouldn't have tasted so bitter except for the turn of this conversation. "Okay. So much for that apology. What are we doing here Dave?"

"What do you mean?"

"You open up. You shut down. You're a fuckin' clam. I'm looking for fun and friendship and you're more serious than a Republican nun. You're making me crazy."

"I'm making you crazy?"

"Please. I saw you during Tainted Love. You're a huge tease."

Dave scoffed. "I am not a tease."

"Wanna bet? I know teases. You. Are. A. Tease."

"You don't know anything about me!"

Kaz shrugged. "I know enough."

Dave shook his head. "No you don't."

Kaz leaned in slightly. Not enough to look like he leaned in but enough that Dave knew he had and could see them, the beginning of dark circles underneath his eyes, or perhaps shadows in the daylight. His eyes were brown, but there were flecks of gold in them. "Then why not tell me over coffee. Like a normal person. Secrets are exhausting. And life is difficult enough without them."

"I…" Dave couldn't argue on premise. Kaz was right. And he was keeping secrets. All kinds of secrets. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Sure. Why not?" Dave brain was screaming, though he wasn't sure if it was a wounded scream or not. "What do you want to know?"

Kaz's lips twisted into a grimace. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

"Good at what?"

"Being on a date."

"This is not…." Holy crap this was a date, wasn't it? Dave's brain was now screaming at him in a different decibel. He felt like he was cheating on Kurt. He felt like he wanted to know more about Kaz. He was seeing something in him he never saw during the fun and flirty volleyball and karaoke games and he kind of liked this side more than the other.

Kaz winked at Dave. "Calm down, big kahuna. It's a little joke. We're just having coffee."

Dave shook his head. "That's cruel, man."

"You don't really get the joke thing much, do you?"

"Life…life hasn't been funny for a long time."

"Then change it."

"What do you mean change it?"

"Go crazy. You don't have to be whatever you were. You're in California now, man. You've got beaches and all night taco stands and crazy midnight movies and chill people out here who might just want to get to know you better."

"Get to know me better?"

Kaz's hand slipped beneath the table, one hand on Dave's knee. "Of course."

Dave maneuvered his knee out from under Kaz's hand. "Let's…let's just have coffee."

Kaz moved his hand back to the top of the table. "Fine. So I'm not your type."

_That's not it_. "That's not it."

Kaz blinked and then Dave blinked. He'd really just said that out loud. "Then, what is it? Someone else?"

"No…I just…look, this is embarrassing…."

Kaz's eyes bugged, his smile so large that you could see white teeth. "Was I your first?"

"No! No….I just…," but Kaz was clearly laughing silently, clamping his lips tightly so as not to disturb the other customers. He was almost vibrating with mirth. Dave shook his head and then gave him a light punch on the arm. "I hate you so much."

"You're too easy," Kaz finally howled as quietly as he was able. He took a moment to calm down. "You've really gotta lighten up, Dave."

"You're not gonna give me a chance to do otherwise, are you?"

Kaz took a large sip of his frappacino. "Nope!" And then his phone buzzed. "I'm gonna answer this."

Dave watched as Kaz's brow furrowed. "Bad news?"

"No, it's Howe. He's wondering if I've seen you. You on the run?"

"No. We just, just left it bad."

"Must be desperate if they're texting me. Of course, they do know this is my day off and they probably thing I'm out cruising or something. What do you want me to tell them? They think I'm a long shot."

Dave looked at Kaz. Spontaneous, attractive Kaz with whom he was having coffee. No string attached, beautiful and simplistic coffee. "Tell them, tell them I'll be back in fifteen minutes. And tell them, tell them I'll do what Mel asked. Or at least I'll try. And then tell me what you're reading."


	18. Dave and the Second Slice

The next week and a half flew by. Looking back, Dave found himself in a whirlwind of activity from that impromptu coffee break with Kaz onwards. He had music lessons with the third Dave (otherwise known as conductor Dave or old man Dave, depending upon who you asked) and Nando. He ran his few miniscule lines about "viperous broods" from the Bible with great passion and learned a lot about delivery, movement, and the pressure of opening night (though thankfully he did not have to go on then). Dave had much vigor for his lines, considering that he felt like he was shouting at the man he used to be out in the audience more than anyone. Even more than his grandmother Lillian.

Nando was… funny, that was the only way to describe it. He had a cheesy, infectious grin that could disappear inside his intensity for respecting the Jesus role and then reappear just moments later. And that made Dave want to respect his understudy role even more. Not that he wanted to play the part. Hunter was the perfect John the Baptist. He had the free-flowing hair, wore very strange multi-colored socks that were never hidden because he was always in a pair of shorts, and they both sounded perfect. Tailor made for their roles.

Dave could barely hold the damn shofar he was supposed to play.

Still, sometimes it was nice to sit in their dressing room and tease each other. It was great to spend time after rehearsals eating cheese fries and listening to the theater folk serenade the waitresses at Chilis. He found himself smiling a lot more than he thought.

The postcard to Kurt was effortless really. A memento of his own karma-won success. What was strange about it all was that he mentioned Kaz vaguely but not in any certain terms to Kurt. He couldn't imagine why he wasn't. He couldn't afford to think of Kurt like that anyways. Not anymore. He wanted to respect what Kurt had been given with Blaine. Dave had certainly made his life hell enough already.

It seemed to Dave that his life had broken into three increments: lonely "thinking about Kurt" time, "horribly extensive and sweating bullets when not being a techie" theater time, and then there was "Kaz" time.

Kaz was…Kaz was like the best of everything in some ways. The way the sunset reflected off his skin. The way he crowed when he made a spike in the sand. The way he looked at Dave like something he was appreciating. The way they almost kissed at the taco cart that one night when everything was warm and the little lights above the stand were twinkling like stars.

It was maddeningly difficult because Dave didn't know if he could, if he wanted. No, he knew that he both could and wanted to be with Kaz. The real problem was that Kaz was the king of mixed signals. He didn't want a relationship but the way he held onto Dave's arms sometimes when they were crossing lanes of traffic…. Or were those goose bumps of Dave's own doing? Was there a way to tell?

"Oh God…I couldn't eat another slice."

"Why in the world did you want fancy pizza tonight? We could've gone to Pizza My Heart. Love their pizza."

Kaz quirked his brow as they sat on the patio of the restaurant. He reached for his napkin and wiped off his fingers slightly before he leaned in a bit. Dave could see where his chest was smooth practically down to his abs. Which, he could normally see, but was far more tantalizing when Kaz wore a buttoned shirt with practically no buttons buttoned. The only thing that looked sexier to Dave was when he ran with his noise-canceling headphones on and he licked his lips.

_Focus!_ Dave thought desperately as Kaz chuckled. "You know for someone who's so keen to date, you didn't seem to notice what tonight is."

"Ummm…I don't know. We had volleyball and then you declared you had secret plans involving me and I vaguely recall that you steered me to your car before I could protest….wait."

Kaz nodded. "Let it sink in. Absorb the moment."

"I haven't been here two months already, have I?!"

Kaz's eyes twinkled. "It's almost August. And that's kind of exciting because that means you'll go to your first pride parade this weekend."

"What?" Dave's eyes went wide and his knee knocked painfully into the table when he started to get up. The throbbing caused him to sit down again just as abruptly. "Owww…damn."

Kaz's lips twisted into the damn infuriating smile again. "Dave, people are staring."

"Why…in what universe do you think I'm ready for a pride parade?!"

Kaz's head tilted to the side. "Dave, it's about time you came out. No, seriously. I mean, you're not fooling anyone. If we were dating, then I'd be the only one in this relationship having the best sex ever…"

"Kaz, we're in public," Dave hissed as the waitress scooted by with refills of the large glasses of Dr. Pepper they were drinking with their chicken and red onion pizzas.

"….and you sleep alone in the same dorm room with Howe and Charlie, confirmed bachelors in a Doris Day romcom sort of way. And you're a theater techie."

"Howe and Charlie are both straight."

"Yeah, but you're not."

"Look," Dave stated as his gaze shifted around uncomfortably, " I…already came out once. Once is enough for any one person."

"Who did you come out to?"

Dave looked down at his pizza. Fine. He could do this. Honesty, honesty would get him through this and then he'd never have to deal with this again. He at least knew he could trust Kaz to be discreet. "My parents. After the suicide attempt."

The world was silent as Kaz just looked at him and his eyes changed…somehow. They weren't quite as smoldering. There was something there. Something Dave didn't want to see. "I didn't know."

Dave shook his head. "It's in the past."

"Jesus, Dave. Have you…have you gotten counseling or anything? I mean, that's pretty traumatic."

Dave barely felt Kaz's hand on top of his own, almost like a mirror image of what had happened in the coffee shop. Only Dave's hand was glued to his unused fork instead of a book. Dave gave out a little nod. "I don't think, I don't think it matters anymore. The reason for the attempt no longer exists. I just…no more talk of pride parades, okay?"

Kaz nodded. "Yeah. I mean, here it's just a citywide past time of packages and festivities. The entire city of San Diego from the border to the outer stretches where the Fry's Electronics is just kind of shuts down. What are you gonna do?"

Dave shrugged. "Probably try and sleep through it."

Kaz narrowed his gaze at Dave, but it didn't feel sharp. It felt more inquisitive. "Forever? Every year?"

"I don't know if I'm even gone be here in another year."

"You want to travel around in a crowded, shag-lined van for the rest of your life?"

"I don't know!" Dave let out an exasperated sigh. The truth was that he did know and he couldn't really do that to himself permanently. He loved Charlie and Howe and hoped they'd always be friends but Dave wanted stability. He wanted to be proud of his life, not the product of a rusty van and an unending need to proclaim that he was a roadie. "I don't know, okay? I just…I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

Silence hung in the air. Kaz looked down at his pizza. "Well, I think that does it for my appetite."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I like when you're honest with me. It brings out the dimples in your cheeks."

Dave could feel himself blushing.

"Dave, you're blushing."

"Stop it Kaz."

"No."

Silence.

"Come back to my place Dave."

"Kaz…"

"Stop it. You're hurting yourself. I can see you want me."

"Doesn't mean anything."

"That means everything Dave. Dave. Look at me. It means something."

Dave looked at Kaz, really looked at him. Kaz. He even liked the way his name sounded. It kind of zinged his tongue pleasantly when he said it. And maybe everyone did know. Maybe he had the opposite of poker face when it came to Kaz. He had certainly had that for Kurt.

"I don't think I can. I mean, it's not that I don't want to…"

"Then what is it? It's just sex, man. I'm not asking for a ring or anything."

"Why not? Why doesn't the idea of a relationship mean anything to you?"

Kaz blinked. "I'm a general manager of a smoothie shop. I have a trashed credit rating from overextended credit cards used to buy textbooks and rounds of booze. I've been a go-go boy for drag queen bingo. I have to dye my hair just so it won't turn permanently green from all the chlorine. I am barely twenty five, just out of college, and submerged in an unbelievable amount of debt. And I'm really good at what I do when I put my mind to it."

"You think you're disqualified from a relationship?"

"If you want a ten year commitment, you're in the wrong city. Move to Portland. It's where all the old gays go to retire," Kaz said with a bit of a sneer.

Dave crooked his eyebrow. "You're calling me an old gay?"

Kaz nodded, crossing his arms defiantly. "Prove me wrong."

Dave snorted. "No. I knew a guy who played around and all he did was end up hurting people. I'm sick of that, of the idea that I have to be that- straight or gay. And sure, I get horny. And yeah, maybe I think about you sometimes when I'm in the shower or alone in my room and stuff but you're kind of…"

"I'm kind of what?"

"Off-limits?"

Kaz smirked. "No. I know. Come on."

Kaz tilted his head and got up, gesturing Dave to follow. Dave did so hesitantly. "Wait, you are…."

"I've already paid," Kaz said as he held the door open for Dave on their way out of California Pizza Kitchen. "Now get your rear in gear."

"Or what? Where are we going?"

Kaz's eyes flashed in a way that turned Dave's knees to jelly. "Spoilers."


	19. Dave's Morning After Part 1

Dave looked out over the balcony of Kaz's apartment. He was on the second floor of a three story building, not quite tall enough to see out over the swimming pool, but tall enough to get an unobstructed view of the inky black sky. Dave's hands gripped the rails and he put his head down to sigh. He had woken up half an hour ago in Kaz's bed, tangled in sheets and flesh. He had extricated himself and then gone on a mission to at least find his pants. Which he had. On the floor next to the couch.

Dave tried not think about what had happened, but there was a burning sensation that traveled down his throat and into his heart when he did. It kept him warm on these cool La Jolla mornings. If he was even still in La Jolla.

He hadn't really wanted to come? Had he? Kaz had given him plenty of options. He had been so damn polite about it really. And he hadn't been surprised when the lustful portions of Dave's brain had taken over, when the young man growling inside of him for comfort and sex had been released.

Dave could vaguely recall that Kaz had asked if he had wanted a drink, pulling a little sideboard cart out of a closet near his moderately big flat screen that he claimed he had gotten for a steal. Dave didn't doubt that. Dave wondered if he had seduced the poor sales clerk the same way he had seduced Dave. Patiently. Wearingly.

Still, there was something about being here. Something that felt good and right and when Dave went looking for the damage, for the pain he normally inflicted on himself when he didn't live up to his own standards, he found nothing in its wake. No psychological or emotional scars. No regret at waking up to his body and his relaxed sleeping smirk. Nothing but the first inklings of wanting to stay forever.

Which Dave wanted to be frightened by. He knew the Kaz didn't want that, maybe even couldn't want that. And yet, Dave couldn't help himself.

There had been too many moments last night. If Dave focused in, he could hear the sound of ice cubes hitting glass. Dave had waved off a drink, Kaz had poured himself a scotch. Dave had turned back to the column of cd's the he had noticed near the television. They hung there against the wall, layers of music in different styles and genres.

He had grabbed a Boyz II Men cd and then had had felt Kaz's hand on his own.

"Is that what you want?" Dave had frozen, not able to voice anything that sounded intelligible in his own mind. What was he doing here? It had screamed somewhere from his brain. "How about this?"

A band called Muse instead. Dave had never heard of them. He felt his muscles shrug and it took a lot to get those muscles moving considering Kaz was so close, right there. Uninterrupted. No chance of being caught or probably, at this point, stopped.

"I…uhhh…I've never heard of them."

Kaz had chuckled, his body now pressed directly into Dave's back. "Of course you haven't. They're super British. But I got hooked on them the summer I interned at the camp in Yosemite. The head lifeguard had had the entire catalogue." He could feel the heat rising off of Kaz's body and it had caused him to quiver slightly. Kaz's hand replacing the Boyz II Men cd. And then Muse had been on.

There was a lump in Dave's throat. Kaz's breath on his ear. Or maybe on his neck. Goosebumps everywhere. Dave frozen like a statue and probably with eyes wider than a deer caught in headlights. "Did you sleep with the guy?"

A chuckle from within his throat. "Why? Would it help if I had?"

Why did it matter to Dave? "Just…just curious I guess. And I really like this first song."

"Of course you do. And no, we didn't. I wasn't ready yet. But he wanted to."

"Of course he did." That gave Dave the strength to try and move a little. A bit of reason in this sea of insanity. "Because everyone wants to."

"Hey." Kaz had grabbed onto Dave's arm. Dave had stopped entirely, feeling the pressure and weight he'd been putting on himself this whole time coming crashing down on his frame. A frame that was twenty pounds lighter and far more flexible than it had ever been before. "But he's not here."

"No, he's here." Dave shook his head. "Every single goddamn person you've slept with is here."

Kaz moved so that he was face to face with Dave. "I won't apologize for being who I am. You're not gonna make me feel guilty either. So drop it. Drop the whole morality tale you've got playing in your head, you're wasting your time. You want me. You came. So shut up and enjoy yourself."

_Yes_, Dave thought. But he couldn't bring himself to do. Not really. Not to just give himself over to idea of shutting off that part of his brain. "Are you…are you…"

Kaz nodded. "Safe. And clean. Free clinics all around us, Davey boy. I could show you the test results if you'd like."

Dave looked down at himself. He suddenly felt very pale and heavy, like a white balloon filled with cottage cheese. "No, that's…that's okay. Kaz, I, I'm sorry. I just….I just don't do things like this."

"I know."

And then Kaz was there. Kissing him. And it wasn't a hurried kiss. It was that kind of "we'll fuck when you're ready but damn it I'm ready now" sort of kiss. The sort of kiss that takes control after taking you back to his apartment and pouring out a scotch. The sort of kiss that Dave had imagined once when he had seen that one movie….what was the movie?

And then there had been sex. A lot of sex. Dave had spent most of the time getting warmed up, clinging to Kaz's body and his kisses like they were a rowboat against his loneliness, against the years of pain and regret that had stacked up like boxes. Boxes that he hadn't even begun to unpack yet.

When had they made it to the bedroom? When had he let Kaz insert himself into a place that Dave had never let anyone been before? Dave remembered that feeling. He waited for the nausea, for the dirtiness to rise like bile in his throat. But his body was betraying him. It wasn't coming.

And it had felt wonderful, someone growling his name in ecstasy. Hands pressed down on his chest while his legs were hitched up in the air. Swimming in covers and being exhausted and sweaty. Moments after the second or third time a stripe of cum with Kaz looking down on him and Dave finding himself finally relaxing, settling, looking at the sumptuous feast known as Kaz's body.

"Oh," Kaz had chuckled before burying Dave in a kiss, "there you are."

And it was true. Here, with Kaz, Dave had never felt more like himself.

And yet…here he was maybe three or four hours after. The sky was turning from inky black to a very dark version of blue. Sunrise was on the way. But what now? _Do I stay? Do I sneak off?_

"Hey, it's cold in there without you."

Dave turned around, shrugging. "Sorry, couldn't sleep."

Kaz came up to Dave and Dave turned back to the sky and reflection of the swimming pool. "Heavy thoughts?"

Dave went to move a little but Kaz wouldn't let him, just grabbing him in a strong hold like a bear hug. "No. Yes. You…you don't have to do that."

"What if I want to?"

"You're gonna give me the wrong idea."

The same voice, but lower this time. "What if I want to?"

Dave struggled to resist, but Kaz was there. Holding him but with the option of letting him go. Dave wasn't being strangled, but he didn't want…did he want to be held? He didn't know. It had been too long, too painful to figure out what he wanted. "Can I….can I borrow your phone for a minute?"

Kaz unwrapped his arms from Dave's chest and Dave's body groaned with want, his mind whining against the loss of a heat source. Kaz leaned against the railing facing his own apartment. "Boy, you don't make this easy. But why not use your own?"

Dave shook his head. "Haven't gotten around to it."

"Yeah, we know. That's why I got you one. I was gonna give it to you over breakfast…"

"You bought me a phone. Did you know I was coming back to your place last night?"

Kaz shrugged. "Nobody can resist what they want for forever. But it really wasn't my idea. I personally don't care if you mooch off of my phone, but Howe wanted to be able to get a hold of you in case you ever did your little disappearing act again. Which, for the record, I am at least grateful for."

Kaz opened the sliding glass door, nodding for Dave to follow. Dave saw the black box on the white counter jutting out from the open kitchen space and wondered vaguely why it hadn't registered the night before. He undid the tape around the sides that was classic Charlie (forever teasing him about the whole "phone issue") and then read the note in Howe's handwriting.

**So we don't lose touch with you. Again.**

Dave smiled at the implication, the underlying _Jerkface_ that Howe had left unspoken. But it wasn't an angry sentiment, merely a sentiment of people that cared for him.

The phone sprang to life as Dave touched the red end button. It wasn't fancy, one of those prepaid phone things. They had sprung for minutes for a year for Dave and what looked like free text. And they had already programmed seven numbers for him: Charlie, Howe, Kaz, Mel, Suzy, Nando, and Hunter. Lots of blank spaces left.

"You like?"

Dave looked up and smiled. "Yeah. I guess, I guess its nice to be connected again."

Kaz shook his head. "You are such a softie, Davey boy. It's just a phone. Now go ahead and make your call, though who the hell is up this early I will never know. I'm only up cause I'm cold and bitter that my bedmate last night pulled a disappearing act. French toast for breakfast?"

Kaz started rattling around the kitchen immediately after he asked, as though he were going to make French toast either way.

"Sure. Sounds good."

Dave went back out on the patio, shutting the sliding glass door behind him. He couldn't hear Kaz whistling but imagined Kaz did whistle while he cooked in his kitchen. He was imagining the wonderful breakfast, his stomach growling conspiratorially.

_Down boy_, Dave thought. _Don't be ungrateful_.

Kurt's number was the next one to program in. He hesitated. Didn't know what to do about his old house number. Dave sighed. He wished…he wished that he had someone to talk to about this that could clear his head. Someone that wasn't Kurt. But he didn't have anyone, anyone that could really help him sort out these feelings.

So he texted Kurt first, just to see what would happened.

Text to Kurt: This is Dave. New phone number. Sorry if you're on summer time. Text me when you get a chance.

The phone vibrated to life moments later.


	20. Dave's Morning After Part 2

It was a text message from Hunter.

**Hunter**: Broke my leg. Do you have your new phone yet?

Then a text message came in from Mel.

**Mel**: Did you get Hunter's text?

**Suzy**: Looks like you'll be playing John the Baptist for our last week.

A couple of deep breathes later.

**Howe**: I assume you have your phone now. Just remember to breathe.

**Charlie**: You're going to do fine.

Dave leaned onto the rail for support. He felt like collapsing into one of Kaz's deck chairs but instead he just looked at the phone in his hand. The messages faded into the darkness as the phone settled down. Such a small device, the thought burrowed in Dave's brain, to bring such bad news.

Bad news for the play more than for him. He couldn't do this. Who were they all kidding? He was an understudy, an untried understudy. His knees began to wobble and he was glad he did have the railing for support. He looked back into the apartment. Kaz was smiling to himself and it looked as though he might have been singing something. He was shirtless and making French toast.

_This is the universe's way of telling me something. It has to be. Maybe nothing is free_.

Dave looked back down at his phone. He wanted to call Kurt or to will Kurt to call him. He needed him now more than ever.

Dave's phone sprang to life again. This time not a text message. He opened the phone.

"Kurt?"

"David?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me."

"It's so good to hear your voice. Are you okay?"

"I'm…I'm okay. Did you get my postcards?"

A moment's pause. "Yes. Thank you, thank you for keeping us in the loop."

"I didn't want you to worry."

"I'm still worried about you. We all are."

"We?"

"Yeah, I..I'm sorry if you didn't want anyone else to know but some people from glee club were super worried when you disappeared after the hospital."

Dave nodded on his end of the phone. "It's okay. Thanks. Thanks for being a good friend."

"I made a promise, didn't I? Are you still in….where is that last postcard? Thanks, Blaine. Let's see, your last post card says California."

"You had to look for it?"

"We keep the cards in a shoe box. At least until I can get somewhere where I can get a map to track where you've gone. Sounds kind of interesting. At least I think so."

"The techie thing?"

"It's unexpected, David. Still worried about your education, but at least you're not alone now."

"No…no, I'm definitely not alone. Listen, Kurt…"

"….What? Sorry, Blaine was trying to flag my down. He says hi."

"Tell him I say hey back. And thank him. Thank him for…taking care of you."

A moment's pause. "I'll do that. David, Dave…are you okay? I'm stepping into my backyard so you can say whatever you need. We're alone."

"At six in the morning? Isn't it kinda cold?"

"It's a little after nine here. It's already 85 percent humidity. Bad for Blaine's hair."

"Time zone change. I forgot. Thank God. I feel like less of a heel for texting you now. And hey! There's virtually no humidity in California. And beaches. Did I mention the beaches?"

"I'm glad you're having a good time. You deserve it. And I'm grateful I have your number now. I was worried. Glad to know you at least have a phone now."

Kurt was worried about him. Dave's heart did a little flip. But then he looked at Kaz. He could almost smell the breakfast. He felt like he was cheating on Kurt again. But the feeling was more dim than before. "I'm not…I'm not really doing okay."

"What's going on? Do you need…could you come back if you had to? If we could find you a safe place to stay?"

"It's, it's nothing like that. Besides, I don't think I can come back just yet. I'm just getting the hang of this now. No, it's…you know how I said I was a techie for Godspell?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, they needed me to be an understudy too. And the guy I'm understudying for just broke his leg. Probably bikin' somewhere."

"Well David, that's great! Break a leg!"

"Wish I felt that way."

"When did you find out?"

Dave made a face that only he could see. "Right before you called."

"First to know. I'm honored."

"We'll see. Feel like I'm gonna screw it up."

"You're not. Finn told me about the Thriller mash-up you were a part of. Was in the audience but I couldn't see who was all on the field. It's, it's gonna be okay David. You've got so many people rooting for you."

"Oh God. Now I'm super nervous."

"Don't be. Hey Dave? Can I ask you something?"

"Anytime. You know that."

"We…ummm…Blaine and I went over to your house when you called from New Orleans."

_Shit_, Dave thought.

"Your grandmother was there."

_Holy shit_, Dave thought.

"Your family was…I'm so sorry, Dave."

Dave took a moment to collect himself. "I feel more sorry for you, dude. And I'm guessing you probably took Blaine or Mercedes? God, I don't think I could apologize enough for that. Guess Grandma Lillian wasn't a fan."

"To say the least."

"So…"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd be okay with me telling your dad where you were. At least, vaguely. He's kind of, kind of gotten in the habit of stopping by dad's old shop for repairs and, Dave, he doesn't look good."

Dave's stomach turned queasy for a moment. "My…dad…"

"Yeah."

Silence for a moment. Dave could feel the tear in the corner of his eye. He felt very small all of a sudden and super uncomfortable.

"Dave?"

"I'm…I'm still here."

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No. No, that's fine. Yeah. Tell him I'm okay. Nothing about the broadway thing though."

"I can do that."

Dave wanted to turn the focus away from his problems. "How's summer break? Ready to leave Lima for college?"

"I…ummm…I actually didn't get in to the college I chose. I'm gonna take my first semester to figure out what's next. Got a job working at Janie's Bridal Boutique though. So that's something."

"Dude, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I was…I didn't do enough stuff. Rachel got in though."

"I can't imagine why they didn't choose you."

"You and Blaine both. Hah. But seriously. I can always audition next year. The song was great, flawless if I do say so myself. Just the rest of it needs some work."

"There's the Kurt Hummel spirit I know and love."

"Thanks. Guess we've both been out of sorts lately."

The strains of Eric Clapton washed over Dave as Kaz slid open the sliding glass door. "Breakfast," he sang with his trademark smirk. Kaz nodded with his hand over his phone.

"Dave?"

"I'm here, Kurt. I've gotta go. Kaz made French toast."

"Kaz? Didn't you mention him in one of your post cards?"

"Probably. Butdontreadtoomuchintoit," Dave mumbled as if to soften the imaginary blow. It was as much for himself as it was for Kurt.

"I won't then. Not til you're ready. Glad to hear from you David. Now go have breakfast, okay? And we'll talk more soon. Text me if you need anything."

"You've already done enough. Time to give it a try for myself, little buddy." _Little buddy? Where had that come from?_

"Yeah…okay….you have a good day. And good luck!"

Kurt's chipper voice worked it's way through Dave's brain. He imagined the sunrise inflection coming through the phone. "Thanks. I will."

Dave shut the phone, cradling it for a moment in his palm. He went back into Kaz's apartment and felt the carpet under his toes, smelled the wonder of butter and bread together. And Kaz. There. Real. Shirtless and lounging, cross-legged on his couch.

"Come. Sit. Eat. Is geddin cod," he said as he took a bite.

"Charming."

"Please bitch. You love me."

Dave stopped as he sat down and grabbed for his plate. He couldn't admit it. Not yet. But he was getting there. "I love that you made French toast."

"Aha! He can be taught! I said love and you didn't do that flinchy thing you normally do."

"I do not have a fing," Dave said as he took a bite of marvelous French toast that filled his mouth with the memory of lazy Sunday breakfasts gone by.

"You so have a thing," Kaz retorted playfully. "I should know."

Dave squinted faux-menacingly in Kaz's direction. "Better be careful or I'll make sure you never forget it."

"Promise or a threat?"

"Take your pic, Kazmian."

"Hey! What did I say about using my full name?"

"Only that it would get me in trouble."


	21. 2 SidesOne Coin

"Hey Dad. You got a minute?"

"Anything for you, bud. Just finishing up some paperwork."

"I…I have a favor to ask."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you can't skip out on Friday night dinner just because they're showing Xanadu down at the Maumee?"

"That's not it, dad."

"I was joking, Kurt."

"I know. Actually, I was wondering if I could invite Paul Karofsky over for Friday night dinner."

"Why?"

"Because he really needs someone to talk to about what's going on with Dave."

"That's…that's the kid that tried to commit suicide cause he's gay like you, right? I mean, not gay like you but he was the bully who transferred schools."

"Yeah. It got super complicated after he left."

"Oh? Do I need to cancel a meeting and come home early?"

"No…no. Nothing like that. It's just, well, Dave kind of ran away when his parents sent him to another school. Some sort of ummm…Christian reform place in Georgia? His dad is kind of broken up about it."

"You think this is the right thing to do?"

"Yes."

"Then I agree. And thanks for asking. I'll see you tonight, alright kiddo?"

"Thanks dad."

Kurt got off the phone as he was rounding the corner into the old Hummel Family Tire Shop. Burt Hummel still owned it, but it was being managed by some of his longer-time workers. He fully intended to return when he couldn't be of any more use to his district or his son's cause.

Paul Karofsky was there, watching his car getting the oil changed for the umpteenth time in the past two months. _He probably has the best running engine in the country at this point_, Kurt thinks.

"Mr. Karofsky?"

"I'm here. Oh."

"Hi. Listen, I know you've been waiting for another update on Dave."

"Just tell me if he's okay."

"What if I there was a better way? My dad and I have dinner on Friday nights and we'd love to have you this week and maybe more in the future."

"Why would you do that for me?" Paul stuck in hands in his tan trench coat. A memory of Dave doing the same when he was nervous in his letterman jacket flashed in Kurt's mind.

"Because you care about Dave. I know you do. And you're not alone in that."

"You know…you know I found him, right? He's my boy."

Kurt nodded. "I know. Just, just come to dinner tonight. That way you don't have to keep spending so much money on oil changes and you can talk to my dad about what it's like to have a kid like me."

Paul nodded. "I appreciate that. You're a good friend, Kurt. Dave was lucky to find you."

Kurt gave a little smile. "He's been a lot luckier than that lately. I was going to wait to tell you, but I talked to him on the phone."

"My Davey's okay?"

"He's doing good. He's safe."

"You know, I was really glad when we got the letter last week. Glad he escaped. Not so much that he couldn't come home." Paul was trying not to tear up in the shop and Kurt could see the emotional struggle playing across his face. Something else that Dave had inherited. "But things are gonna be good now."

"Yeah. Your son is strong, Mr. Karofsky."

"You can call me Paul, Kurt. I think it's the least I can give you."

"Wait until you've had my meatloaf before you say that."

Paul gave a weak little laugh. "7 it is then."

Across the country, Dave sat blinking in front of a mirror. He had done sound check after Newman had snaked the microphone through the back of his shirt, a strangely intimate task for a very straight and gruff sounding sound tech. And now he sat there, shoved in a corner while his mind screamed at him.

_What in the hell do you think you're doing?! You're not an actor or a singer! You're nothing! Bail on this. Bail! Bail! Bail!_

"I can't do that," came a reply from his lips. It was a sad reply, unsteady on its own feet, but it was a reply. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. Bailing was not an option this time.

His hands were shaking too much to apply foundation the way that Lindsey had taught him, so he wandered into the "green room" instead. Dave couldn't figure out why they called it "the green room" when it was just a white office kitchenette. The only green was on the signed Sound of Music poster hanging from one of the walls for visual interest. The tv over the fridge was tuned onto the stage and Dave could hear the strains of other mike checks. He found Nancy there, eating some pineapple. Nancy was a retired schoolteacher who always had a smile on her face and looked like she had seen everything and had been more amused than made anxious by it.

"You look nervous."

"That obvious?"

"You'll do fine. You blew us all away in rehearsals. Imagine a techie having that much talent and not wanting to be on stage."

Dave sat down when Nancy motioned to the chair after getting a cup of water. "Never been so thirsty in my life either."

Nancy smiled. "It's just nerves. Take it from someone who's played a wall and a tree before this with 300 kids in the Wizard of Oz. You can't even see the audience when those stage lights are up."

Dave looked down into the cup of water he was grasping onto like it was the last rowboat on the Titanic. "Can still hear them though."

"Didn't you do any theater in school?"

"No. Too busy with scouts and ball. Didn't have any time for it. Did do a thing with the Glee club once but that wasn't my choice."

"Seems a shame. Most schools are cutting the programs too. Lot of kids gonna be lost."

_Kids like Kurt_. "Yeah. But, I mean, there's community theater, right?"

Nancy shrugged. "Sometimes. Depends on the community." She paused for a moment to examine a piece of pineapple. "You should be excited. It's something new to conquer."

"Excitement feels a lot like nausea."

"No one's gonna judge you, Dave. Just remember that."

Dave coughed a little. "I'll try. Warm up with third Dave in fifteen, right?"

Nancy nodded. "Mmhmm. See you in the orchestra pit."

Dave got up to go back to his little mirror in the corner of his dressing room. "Yeah."

He sat down again once back in the dressing room and looked at himself. He looked better rested thanks to the night he had spent with Kaz but inside he felt pulled through the ringer. How was he going to switch on joyful? What would Nando do? Then he looked down at his phone alongside his little make-up kit. There were a couple of little things there, a glass rose and a little teddy bear from Kaz. Presents. Well wishes. And on the mirror was a letter from the current Broadway cast of Godspell, lauding them for their efforts.

Dave was glad for solace of his little corner of the normally chaotic dressing room. He was dawdling now, everyone else was off doing their sound checks and joking about backstage. But here, alone, in this moment, Dave could hold his head in his hands and sigh. He tried to grab for the foundation again but his hands were still shaking.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

"Hey, Dave. Heard it was your big opening night."

Dave blinked. That voice. It couldn't be. He swiveled in his stool and his face lit up. "Mercedes?"

"Of course! You didn't think I wouldn't show up to your big break, did you?"

Dave was up and across the room in a flash, giving her a hug. The last time they had seen each other had been this amazing conversation they had had about faith and love and hope by his hospital bed. She had stayed long after Quinn and Joe and had gone home. He hadn't thought about that so much. Not nearly as much as the next day when Kurt had shown up.

"What are you doing out here?!"

"I could ask you the same thing. Know how many people you had running scared when you disappeared on us?"

Dave nodded, moving a step back and folding his arms in a comfortable fashion. "I can take a guess. How did you find out I was performing tonight? I'm an understudy."

"Well, Kurt called me because I live in LA now and that's only about three hours away. And that box office sure enough got tired of hearing my voice always asking if you were actually gonna be in the play every night."

"You going to one of the UC's?"

"Partly. But I've also got a little recording contract something something on the side."

Dave shook his head and smiled. "That's great. That's really great."

"Oh." Mercedes brought out a white rose from behind her back. "For luck."

Dave took it gratefully. "Thanks. Need all the luck I can get."

"You'll be fine. Eager to see how you do. I've never seen Godspell before."

"It's really kinda strange. I don't think it's normal even by theater standards."

"Even better reason for me to see it. You still need to get ready?"

"Yeah. But my hands are shaking…"

"Here. Sit."

Dave did as Mercedes said, sitting in his swivel stool. She leaned against the counter and smiled as he looked up at her. She took his foundation and starting blotting and smoothing so he'd be ready. "Boys are so hopeless at this."

"I remember the last time we did this."

"Sure different now."

"Yeah."

Mercedes' voice became small, something which was quite a feat for someone as sassy as she. "Are you okay, Dave? You can be straight with me. I know you told Kurt…"

"I am. I think, I think I'm finally starting to put my life together. Been thinking about going for my GED and trying to figure out what I wanna be when I grow up. Fate got me here, but I'm gonna try and do some of the work too."

"Good. And just some lipstick. You've got great eyebrows for theater, did you know that?"

"I can't imagine when I'd ever know that."

"There. You're done."

Dave blinked. He looked…smooth. "Thanks."

Mercedes chuckled. "Everyone's always so amazed. Doesn't anyone remember how fabulous I am? I'm gonna get out here so you can finish getting ready. And don't go skipping out after the show. I wanna go out and talk about what's going on with you."

"We normally all go out to Chili's afterwards. We can catch up there, if that's okay."

Mercedes was moving towards the door. "Sounds great. And then we're gonna trade phone numbers so we can keep in touch. So when Quinn and Santana visit me out here, they can personally both come whoop your butt for scaring the bejeesus out of them."

"Deal." Dave smelled the rose. Mercedes had nearly closed the door behind her when Dave called out again. "Mercedes?"

The door swung open. "Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

Mercedes nodded. "Get ready for call, Mr. John T. Baptist. I'll see you soon."


	22. The Midnight Double Feature Picture Dave

"God, I'm stuffed. I'm never eating popcorn again."

"You say that after every movie."

"We've seen two movies together."

"And you say that every time."

"Am I really getting that predictable in my old age?" Kaz stretched his arms over Dave's shoulder as they wandered down the sidewalk.

"Old age? You're 25."

"26 now, thanks for reminding me. So…what did you think of the movie?"

"It was…" Flashes of the movie building in Dave's brain. They were sauntering which was giving his hard-on a chance to calm down. Intellectually, Dave knew it hadn't been a porno. Hell, he'd seen more indecent things in Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon. But still….there had been something. "an experience."

Kaz yawned wide. "Wasn't the Hangover Double Feature a good idea?"

Dave shook his head warmly at Kaz, who seemed to have taken to leaning on him while they walked. "I don't know about the Double Feature part of it for you, but I do love Hangover night at the Neptune. If this is the after-pride party stuff, I'm totally in."

"Good. Cause I do this every year. Though this is the first year they've done a recent movie. But it was a good choice."

"You seen that one before?"

"Saw it when it came out. Christina's one of our best exports."

"Do love her voice."

"Mmm…and that body. Make a gay boy go straight again for that one…."

Dave knocked into Kaz's shoulder. "You'd never be straight. You have too much fun being gay."

"You're right," Kaz said and then whispered in a lower voice into Dave's ear, "but then again so do you."

"Stop it," Dave blushed, retorting back slowly.

"Make me."

"We're in public."

Kaz chuckled. "Oh come on. Didn't that movie make you wanna…you know…go home?" Kaz wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm not falling for this…"

Kaz started singing at the top of his lungs, causing Dave to move over to the other end of the sidewalk. Not far, just far enough to look like they might not be walking together.**_ I need a tough lover, ooh-oh_**

"Shhhhh….you're gonna get pulled over for being drunk."

Kaz purred, closing the distance between the two. "You wish I were drunk. Then you'd have an excuse to take advantage of me. You're not telling me you didn't feel," Dave gasped when Kaz suddenly pulled him into an alley between a Mexican restaurant and a closed Adidas store, "anything?"

Dave gulped. He was still at half mast and having Kaz's hand on his crotch did not help matters. "Stop…Kaz…I…"

"You know the magic word."

Groan. "No, seriously, I…"

Kaz's hand stopped kneading but hovered just over Dave's crotch area. They were hidden from street view by a recently emptied dumpster. The alley wasn't giving off a noxious smell but it was still an alley, regardless. Dave would never have picked it for any sort of sexual encounter. "Didn't anything in that movie turn you on?"

_The bartender_. The words flashed through Dave's mind before he could stop them. _Yeah_, Dave thought in his head. The bartender was very, very attractive. That open shirt and those tattoos and that black hat. Homespun humor and the way he had kissed Alli, falling for her slowly. Screwing up but showing up in the last scene and thinking of her, offering her a song.

Other scenes from the movie flashed in his mind. Christina wearing pearls and diamonds. Jack, the bartender wiping glasses. Christina in her tough lover outfit. Jack, once again. Coming out from his bedroom in a towel. Jack and Christina kissing. Then Jack, drunk, in his pjs. Then Jack…claiming…

Dave's brain turned to fire instantly. And Kaz was right there to watch it happen, feel it happen. Dave was succumbing to the images. He wanted Jack here just as much as he wanted Kaz. Jack had been…fuck…so sexy and so caring and so brilliant and so human and God how could Dave have wanted to want any guy before him. He tasted Kaz's lips when he kissed Jack though, in that alley, pressing him against the wall.

"Let me…okay…let me get air…"

"Take me home," came the growl from Dave's throat. "Now."

Kaz blinked, looking into Dave's eyes. "Just let me get my phone and I can call…"

And then Dave was kissing him again, addicted to the thought of Kaz/Jack. He'd never had this before. Available. Before Kaz, he would have had to wait to get home to knock one out. It would have been quick, secret, light's off, and horribly ineffective. It would have left Dave with a feeling of shame and dissatisfaction. But Kaz was here, burrowing into his kiss and Dave was getting hard and out of control and his hand was moving down to Kaz's crotch and he was turned on, unable to stop. He wanted it. Here, now, in this alley crawling with disease and where the cops could cuff them at any moment. His brain was melting into the word sex and Dave was enjoying the ride into the city of lust, population two.

"No time."

"We could…."

"Less talking."

"Mmm…mmm…Mmdave…Dave?"

"Cab." What was that noise I just made?

"I could just…"

"Now."

The cab ride was blur for Dave. He just kept looking at Kaz and then reminding himself, or rather shouting at the part of his brain that didn't want to currently rip off every stitch of clothing Kaz had and paint him in Jack's tattoos and stick a black hat on top of his head or possibly just strategically position it on top of his crotch while was naked in bed, tied to the post like Dave had seen in that one…., that he was _in a cab_.

It was all taking far too long. Dave was losing it, coming unglued, fueled by…there was some feeling. And Kaz was just smirking at him and all Dave wanted to do was to take the smirk and rearrange it into an ugly face of ecstasy. To take Kaz to the edge with him and then drag them both over kicking and screaming.

They barely got any air. By the time they had gotten to the door, too many good scenes were playing in slow motion in Dave's mind. All of Jack. None of them featuring a shirt. _Cookies, we need cookies_, Dave growled in his mind. And then there was no time for cookies because Kaz's back was pinned to the wall outside the door and Dave was gluing himself to Kaz's body and licking his lips and kissing Kaz until he wasn't sure he would ever breathe again.

God, it felt so good to not be alone when he felt like this.

Eventually, Kaz was able to maneuver enough to open the door behind him, but Dave was making this noise in his throat. A very, very wanting noise. Like every moment not touching Kaz was a waste of his time. And his time was very precious.

Dave closed the door behind them both with his foot before taking the key from the hole, pushing Kaz in, and then advancing, bearing down with nothing in his eyes but lust. His hands grabbed Kaz's shirt, Kaz's face a mix of amusement and indecent playfulness. But Dave couldn't see Kaz's face. Just the body.

Dave's teeth grazed the skin of his neck and then kept moving. Every inch. Wanting. But it wasn't enough. "Fuck!" he barked.

Kaz managed to kick off his shoes before Dave had him in the bedroom. Dave was becoming horny, though he was hardly blowing Kaz's mind yet. After all, this wasn't Kaz's first time or anything. But the night was still young and Dave was still…he hadn't quite let go yet.

Kaz let the force of Dave's push land him square in the middle of bed.

"Yeah? What ya thinking about?"

"Your pants." Dave responded with dark seriousness. "They're in the way."

Kaz started to unbutton them and then Dave was leaning over the bed, ripping them off and leaving Kaz's boxer brief's almost at his knees. "Dave…"

"I'll buy you new pants. Now shut the hell up!" Kaz went for his boxer briefs to pull them down. This was actually getting Kaz kind of hot. He'd never seen Dave do this before. He wondered what had set Dave off and then thought about what he had said. Of course. He'd been turned on by the bartender. _Best night ever_, the phrase purred in Kaz's mind. _A night to remember_.

Kaz felt Dave's hand over his own. Dave was looking at him hungrily. "Leave them on. Right there. You get to take them off when I'm ready."

And then Dave was leaning over Kaz's body, still fully clothed but arched because of the massive hard-on trying to split open his zipper. Dave grunted, trying to rearrange so he wouldn't hurt himself. This aggravated him all the more so that his lips bruised Kaz's more once he had succeeded. His tongue found itself shoved down his lover's throat. Heavy, warm breathing that had a faint scent of popcorn and butter.

Not far enough. Not deep enough.

Dave sat up, straddling Kaz's chest. He was fidgeting with his buttons more than undoing him. His hands were shaking from the excess energy and his tent was impressive enough for Kaz to want to comment on. But after Dave's shirt was gone and the shoes were off, he was biting down on Kaz's neck. Kaz reacted by arching his back off the bed, thrusting himself into Dave's half-clothed form.

Dave pushed him back down flat with all his strength, but soon Dave's teeth were grazing skin lower and lower. Past the nipple line. Past the abs that gleamed in the golden sun. Kaz gave out a gasp as Dave went after his cock with gusto, nearly choking. Kaz bit down on his lip, his hands traveling to the top of Dave's head.

"You want it? You wanna choke on it?"

Dave looked up, his mouth full of cock and glared at Kaz. He took Kaz's cock out his mouth and let his voice drone on while lust hazed his judgment. "You talk too fucking much. My turn to tell you what to do, Mr. I'm Always In Charge." And then Dave was reaching for his belt buckle and taking it off, gripping it. And Kaz found his wrists tied above his head. Loosely. Not in any sort of expert way. _Next year_, Kaz thought, _we're visiting the leather tent at the festival and Dave's gonna take that class._

"No, this isn't right." Dave slid off Kaz's boxers all the way and admired his lover's cock. Then he slapped it with the palm of his hand.

Kaz hissed in response. "So what do you want?"

"Fuck if I know," Dave growled. "I'm a goddamn virgin compared to you. I just know that I'm fucking hot and you're here and you're supposed to know what to do about this sort of shit."

Kaz raised his eyebrows, slipping out of Dave's belt quite easily. Dave didn't have time to say anything about it, however, when Kaz was suddenly just inches from his crotch, his mouth just kind hovering, breathing, really close. Too close. "Oh my God, just do it, my brain is screaming hot and horny!" close.

"You must have some idea."

"Suck it," Dave said through gritted teeth, taking his hand and guiding Kaz's mouth to the tent in his briefs. Kaz was very interested in accomplishing this goal and Dave let out a hiss between his lips. His knees quivered and a slight wave of satisfaction drew over him. Kaz's lips bearing down on the base of the shaft and then circling downward to Dave's balls.

"Please…oh God…please…"

Kaz obliged by freeing Dave's cock from his briefs, causing Dave's knees to tremble as he took all of the head and about an inch of Dave's penis in a single swoop. The sound…Dave just wanted the sound gone though. Kaz was doing a good, great, okay perfect job. But there was too much noise. He just wanted the songs from the movie here, blasting. Vibrating his skin. He wanted to be immersed, to open his eyes and see Kaz wearing a black vest and hat and nothing else.

And…" Oh. Yeah. Come on. That's nice. Little faster. Harder…."

Eyes fluttering. Flashes of lust in his mind. Movies he had buried, pictures he had looked at on the internet lonely nights ago. Dave interlocked his fingers and placed them on his head, thrusting his hips so his cock went all the way to the back of Kaz's mouth and beyond. He was interrupted by a gagging sound.

"Yeah. Come on. Please. More. Faster. Take it."

Maybe it was five minutes, maybe it was five seconds but there was this instinct in Dave telling him it wasn't enough. They weren't close enough. He needed flesh, flesh filled with heat and pressure points and it wasn't enough.

He took his cock out of Kaz's mouth and Kaz looked up in protest. "Sorry…it's…I…" Dave screwed up his face trying to find the words.

Kaz leaned back, reclining on the bed. "So…what do you want?"

"I just…" Dave looked down as though his hard dick might have the answer. He gave it a tug with the palm of his hand and made a satisfied little grunt. "I've never…I mean, I've felt horny but this is…I just…I feel like I need to…"

"Fuck something?" Kaz offered helpfully.

"Yes!" Dave cried out. "I want…I want something close. To be in something."

Kaz smirked again and Dave had a terrible urge to crawl on top of him and wipe that grin off his face. He felt…exposed and it felt unsure and wrong and yet….even crossing his own arms made him hot, made him want flesh. And then he was catching whatever Kaz was throwing at him.

A condom? Lube?

"Kaz."

"Dave?"

"This is a condom and lube."

"Good job," Kaz stated as he wiggled his eyebrows and then proceeded to turn over on the bed until his ass was showing. "You need a personal invitation?"

"No sir," Dave chortled. He found it hard once he had opened the Gun Oil brand lube to not just jack himself off with it and nut over Kaz's back. He knew that he could have, but somewhere in him he wanted…no needed…something more fulfilling. And this was it. The feeling of tight entrance, the groan of a partner. And skin.

Even when he was thrusting and then entwined bodies fell to the side and Dave just kept going because he was hard and he needed it and Kaz was egging him on, giving him permission to thrust brutally and groan and sweat and pull out completely and thrust in again. And Kaz's legs knew where to go to give him optimum room and it felt so good and so complete and yet, Dave was hungry. Hungry for more. Hungry to be fucked while fucking. To feel every pleasure. To be tense and ridden while riding. He wanted to curse in tongues and see stars and bells and whistles. He wanted to glide and hold the air and nothingness and fall over the chasm of lust and even this, as perfect as it was, just wasn't fucking enough.

Dave pulled out and laid on his half of the bed. He was panting, his muscles burning but not just from use. From lust. From the fires in his soul he'd been keeping locked tight. Too tight. And now they were all here. His demanding. His neediness. That thing that he'd do where he'd trick people into thinking he was strong and a leader. Dave just wanted to fuck them all away. To start again.

"It's. Still. Not. Enough. Fuck!"

Kaz leaned over and licked his lips. "I have an idea. You game?"

"Anything," Dave groaned.

Kaz got out of the bed and went to his closet. On the bottom shelf was a large blue tub. He began rummaging through to himself, humming.

Dave had ripped the condom off his cock and was already stroking, trying to do long strokes so he wouldn't cum prematurely. He was having a hard time not just giving up the ghost.

But then Kaz was on top of him, pinning him down so he couldn't move his hands. "Please," he whined breathlessly, "please just let this be over."

"It hurt?"

"Yes."

"Never felt like this before?"

"God yes. Kaz, please!"

"No." Kaz narrowed his eyes, dragging Dave's gaze. Dave gulped. "Now you listen to me, Dave Karofsky. You're getting there. I'm going to help you. And I'm gonna let you call the shots, but you better fucking realize that this is the hottest you've ever been and this, this is the feeling of sex. Right here. Right now. Now you fucking man up and tell me what you goddamn want and we'll keep trying until you're cursing in tongues babe. Got me?"

"Yeah…." Dave watched Kaz, stroking himself gently so he'd have something to do. Kaz's body was so beautiful, so lean, so colorful compared to Kaz. His cock had three different shades of tan to it and the head itself had this cascade of red that turned Dave on so bad. He didn't want to admit how much, but it almost took his breath away.

"Here!" Kaz stood up with a smile from ear to ear. He looked…giddy. Dave's eyes dilated when he saw what he had. "With love from the triplets."

"Are you …."

"Well, I'm not gonna make French toast with 'em, that's for damn sure. Now, flip over."

Dave obliged him. But he couldn't stay on his stomach long, especially when Kaz's fingers were sliding deep into his hole. Patiently. Too patiently.

"Faster. More. Please God."

"There you go. Tell me, tell me what you want."

"Fuck. Please. Three in. Threeeeeeeeeeeee."

"I can do that."

"Oh…that's…mmm…"

"Get your rhythm."

Dave obliged Kaz. He rocked until he was used to the three fingers and then he gasped, stopping a moment when the dildo was first shoved in. He felt it go in, felt it deeper than the fingers. And he loved it, the way it hit him just right and yet….it wasn't a real person inside him. There was nothing real about it.

"Come on, Davey. Picture it. You want it."

And Kaz was right about that. It turned Dave on to picture Jack fucking him with Kaz watching, jerking himself to the thought of Dave being fucked by the hot bartender from Burlesque. Dave started rocking back and forth, taking the moderate length of the realistic dildo, feeling his muscles clench and his dick rock as it hit the prostate. He started making…well, they weren't words. They were more a series of ugh and ooh noises.

"Damn, Davey. Get some."

"More."

"It's all in."

"More. You instead. Please. Please."

"Say it," Kaz hissed. "Say what you want."

"Fuck me, Jesus Christ!" Dave howled. "Fuck me until I can't see straight! Are you happy now?!"

"Very."

Kaz was only too happy to fuck Dave senseless while he was in such a vulnerable position. It was agony and ecstasy, a beautiful rhythm and so deep and wonderful. But Dave was still….it wasn't enough. Was it ever gonna be enough?!

"You like it?"

"Of…Of course…"

"Lying?"

"Not enough. Want it to…oh, right there…be enough."

"So," Kaz thrust himself in completely and Dave felt his elbows give way, "here."

Dave reached out weakly as Kaz started to release himself from Dave's hole. Dave held the fleshlight. "Do I have to go slow with this thing?"

"You're not gonna break it, trust me."

"Will it feel good?"

Kaz simply smirked, handing him the Gun Oil. "You tell me."

Dave lowered the fleshlight over his cock and then he felt the tightness. "Oh, that's…oh fuck…Kaz…oh fuck."

"Feel good?" Kaz let his tongue run over Dave's shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna feel perfect?"

Groan.

"I'll take that as a yes."

And then Kaz was fucking Dave while Dave was fucking the fleshlight and it felt hard and dirty and beautiful and Dave was thrusting and his muscles were shivering and he was on the brink of swearing while the room was suddenly unbearably hot.

He felt Kaz around his waist, pulling him into his chest so that he was on his knees on the bed again. He let Kaz take over the fucking and he could only thrust back in response, his head cocked towards the ceiling and his mouth open with a series of noises that couldn't be interpreted.

And then he was close and Kaz wasn't giving instructions, merely grunting alongside. There was slickness and sweat and occasionally Kaz lost his rhythm, finding it again in another moment. And then they were cumming together, over the edge like Dave had wanted and he was in Kaz's grip and cumming into the fleshlight and then cumming out of the fleshlight because it just felt as thought it were going on forever.

Short gasps happened as Dave landed back to earth. Kaz pulled out and rolled to his side of the bed and whistled low. "Damn, baby. That was hot. Was it good for you?"

"Ung."

"I know what movie I'm getting you for Christmas."

"I would throw a pillow at you if I weren't so exhausted," came the muffled response from the man with his head buried in the pillows, his ass sliding slowly from the air back onto the bed as his cock finally began to soften.


	23. Skeletons in the Closet

Dave let out a small sigh, finally turning over. Kaz was looking at him as though he were about to start purring or playing with a ball of yarn. They both felt content, here, swimming in blankets and naked without shame.

"I think I want a drink."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Dave shrugged. "Just feel like I should have something. Like congratulations on your first major orgasm or something."

"Can't imagine a better reason for it."

Dave put his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around for his pants. Not out of embarrassment this time, just because he didn't relish walking around Kaz's small apartment completely naked. Once he was zipped up, he looked back at Kaz. "Anything? Scotch on the rocks is your drink, right?"

"You remembered."

"Of course I do," Dave looked down at his toes so Kaz couldn't tease him about the rising blush. "That was very special for me, that night."

And then Kaz was sliding over and his legs were patting Dave's knee. For a moment, Dave thought Kaz was going to try to blow him again but instead Kaz just looked up and smiled. "Hey! It wasn't just special for you. Trust me."

"You have anything on that cart besides scotch?"

"Whole bunch of good shit. Just experiment till you find something you like. Wouldn't recommend the brandy, that's pretty much it."

Dave nodded and then padded his way to the living room. The light from the bedroom gave him sufficient walking light, so he left the living room one off. It didn't take much to find the handle to the closet and then he clicked on the light switch inside the drink cupboard.

He hummed "Hey There Delilah" to himself while he looked at the various decanters and bottles and tried to decide what he wanted. He sniffed at what he assumed was the aforementioned brandy and then made a face. That was definitely a no.

He found a clear bottle and turned his head inquisitively. It didn't have much of a smell. He wasn't sure if it was vodka or ever clear, but he was pretty sure it wasn't jeagermeister. Jeagermeister had that licorice smell and taste he wasn't a big fan off. Where the hell is his vodka? At least I know I can drink Grey Goose and Red Bull if nothing else.

"A-ha!"

"What you find?" came the voice from the bedroom. The voice waited a few minutes and then spoke again when there was no response. "Dave?"

Still no response. Kaz slid out of bed and put his boxer briefs back on. More out of politeness for his lover than for his own shame. He stopped at the door of the bedroom and looked at Dave, who was frozen and holding a bottle of Grey Goose that was chilling in the little black fridge on the bottom of the cart.

"Dave?"

Dave turned slowly, blinking. His eyes were wide and he looked like he was gasping for breath. "What. Are. These?!"

"What are what?"

"These!" Dave turned back, his free hand flinging out violently to the dvd cases lining the shelves in Kaz's closet. They had innocuous enough names in something of a system that was definitely not alphabetical order. Dave's brain picked out a few: Jeff, Rafael, Marion, Jackoff 3 (F, D, Ab).

"Those are home movies."

"Of all your exes?!"

"I'd hardly call them exes."

The bottle of grey goose fell out of Dave's hands and onto the carpet without shattering. He was trying to form words, his brain sputtering. At the forefront was a horrifying thought. "Am I **IN** Here?"

"After post-editing, sure."

Dave blinked at the frank response as Kaz crossed his arms, leaning against the door frame of his bedroom. Dave felt like he was seeing Kaz for the first time. Really seeing him. And it, it made him feel dirty and disgusted. And not in the good way that he had just finished feeling. "Were you at least going to ask me first?!"

"Ummm…I've never done that before."

"Okay, let's review. You took film of me while we were having sex. You were going to edit it and then stick me in your sick little love vault here. And then what…play the tapes back for your friends to watch and laugh at or something?!"

Dave began to pace halfway through this little speech, looking at the floor and avoiding Kaz's face at all costs. Kaz opened and closed his mouth for a moment. "You think…you think I'd do that? Dave, listen…"

Dave looked up, his face red as though he were having the start of a panic attack. He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know what to think. I can't…I have to get out of here."

"It's four in the morning!"

"I'll call a cab." Dave was already racing around, looking for his clothes, his mind reeling.

"Those tapes are just for review! Sex is like a sport with me. You know this about me Dave!"

"Where is my shoe, dammit?!"

Kaz's hands gripped for Dave's shoulders, turning him. Kaz put his hands over Dave's while Dave was holding one sock. Dave was shaken, on the verge of tears or yelling or something. Some kind of outburst that was guaranteed to be violent. "Now look at me. There's nothing wrong with those tapes."

"Nothing wrong?!" Dave's ears filled with the sound of hurricanes. "Are you insane?! There's everything wrong with those tapes! It's like a goddamn trophy room! I thought…I don't know what I thought. But we could never, I would never. How could you?! I'm not some common thing you can film to get your own ya-yas out! I trusted you!"

"Dave…"

Dave wrenched himself away from Kaz's grip. He was crying now. "No….**No**! You leave me, you leave me alone Kazmian! I want nothing to do with you or your damn dirty tapes!"

Kaz stood there for a long time after Dave had left the apartment, stock still. His body eventually unwound and then Kaz began to move around wordlessly in his little apartment, straightening up. He didn't talk. No whistling or music. Just silence. Kaz could at least deal with the silence.

He stopped at the door of the closet, blinking and looking around at his life. This was his life after all. Had been before Dave and he guessed it would be after. He clicked off the light and sighed, shutting it behind him. He thought maybe Dave would understand. _At least_, Kaz thought, _I never lied. That's the important thing to remember_.

Howe and Charlie opened the door to manic Dave and they sat there with him while he shivered and railed and sputtered, still smelling of sex and obviously in a wound up state. Charlie merely shook his head when Dave finally started to make sense and Howe put his hand on Dave's shoulder.

"It's okay. You want me to talk to him?"

"No. If he can't figure out what he did wrong then I don't….let's just…we'll just not talk about him for awhile, okay?"

Howe nodded. "Whatever you want. You okay for tonight? It's the finale. We were gonna stay to help with How to Succeed in Business Without Trying but if you'd rather find another show, we understand."

Dave shook his head. "San Diego's pretty big and La Jolla's just a suburb. I'll be, I'll get through this."

Charlie nodded without any usual quip. "Yeah. You'll be…you'll be fine. Don't worry, dude. Don't worry."

By the time he got backstage a couple hours before call, Dave felt crummy and didn't want to really be there. He was the first one there and was glad for it. Glad to have a few moments alone to decompress. In spite of it all, Dave was tired of bailing on his commitments and he couldn't not keep this one just because he felt like his insides were shriveling up and dying. He wondered vaguely how he was supposed to be overjoyed by baptizing others when all he felt like doing was breaking into tears. Had he felt this way since he had donned the gorilla suit for Kurt? He couldn't remember, he didn't want to.

He lifted the back of his shirt for Newman when he arrived to do sound so Newman could run the microphone line up. "Hey Newman, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Came the gravelly reply. He had a deep smokers voice without the unpleasant smoker smell and a vast array of silver studs that offset his Elvis-swooped hair. He mostly wore tank tops that showed off his tattoos and muscles, but you could see in his eyes that he was just a big puppy that wouldn't hurt a flea.

"I know you probably don't get this question much but I'm kind of new to this whole acting thing and I was wondering how you act happy when you're not actually happy."

Newman thought for a second. "Well, I guess it's kind of like a switch. You know, when I started doing this it was mostly giving drunks microphones at karaoke and they don't need the switch. But I think when you watch Nando you might see it. I've watched him do this job, Damn Yankees, and even a Proactiv commercial and let me tell you, he's got the switch thing down."

Dave shrugged as Newman fixed the microphone over his ear and grabbed some medical tape for his cheek. "I'm not sure I've got that."

Newman gave a little smirk. "They wouldn't have kept you as understudy if you didn't have something worth keeping. Mark my words, kid, they know what they're looking for here. And they certainly wouldn't have you going on finale matinee if they didn't think you couldn't find it."

"What if I don't know what I'm looking for?"

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Newman shook his head. "Wait a couple of years. Ask yourself that question again when you're thirty. Come on, kid. Let's get your sound check done."

Dave followed him to the stage and watched Newman walk to the sound booth curved high into the back of the theater. He waited for Newman to fiddle with some buttons and then he got a thumbs up. And normally all Dave would do was hit a couple "Prepare Ye's", give a cough to help the warm up and then do a couple of better ones. His big warm-up came when third Dave and Chris got there. Chris was the one who had studied abroad and knew all that piano crap, even better than composer Dave.

But sometimes understudy and habitual techie Dave had something he needed to say, something he was afraid of. Afraid that he and Kaz couldn't make it. Afraid of all the mistakes. Afraid that he'd never be the one Kaz wanted and that Kaz might be just another Kurt. He didn't know how to get over Kaz if he had to, didn't know if he wanted to.

_**Share my life**_

_**Take me for what I am**_

_**Cause I'll never change all my colors for you**_

The song was there before he knew how to stop it.

_**Take my love**_

_**I'll never ask for too much**_

_**Just all that you are and everything that you do**_

And then it just seemed impossible to not continue.

_**I don't really need to look very much further**_

_**I don't want to have to go where you don't follow**_

A techie somewhere had arrived and was working on the curtain for the chain link fence. He could hear it but he couldn't stop, couldn't stop saying and feeling these things. He didn't want to. Wanted it to be copasetic. He wanted to be with Kaz, wanted to ignore the differences in their philosophies of life. Wanted to ignore all the tapes in the closet. But he couldn't, he wouldn't. He couldn't do that to himself and survive.

_**I won't hold it back, this passion inside**_

_**I can't run from myself**_

_**There's nowhere to hide**_

Pain. Hadn't Dave looked at the gifts Kaz had sent, the good luck gestures and seen how empty they were? Did Kaz even care about him? He didn't know. He was afraid to ask, the answer right on the tip of everyone's tongue while their backs were turned.

_**Don't make me close one more door**_

_**I don't wanna hurt anymore**_

_**Stay in my arms if you dare**_

_**Or must I imagine you there**_

There was sound that escaped his lips in the privacy of the men's dressing room. Anger filled him following the hurt. Hadn't his therapist back in Lima said that holding that in could be dangerous? He had thrown Kaz's first gift towards the wall and it had busted, not cleanly either.

_**Don't walk away from me**_

_**I have nothing, nothing, nothing**_

_**If I don't have you**_

Two, three more gifts. Tokens or love or tokens of guilt?

_**I don't wanna have to look very much further**_

_**I don't really want to go where you won't follow**_

_**I won't hold back, this passion inside**_

_**I can't run from myself**_

_**There's nowhere to hide**_

Afterwards, all that had been left were the single white rose that Mercedes had brought him and the signed letter from the current off-Broadway cast tucked into the side of his mirror. He looked at himself in the mirror, the veins and the menacing grimace. The angry panting. He hated himself in that moment. Or was it Kaz he hated? Or was it loving Kaz he hated?

_**Don't make me close one more door**_

_**I don't wanna hurt anymore**_

_**Stay in my arms if you dare**_

_**Or must I imagine you there**_

Dave left the dressing room in search of a broom. He cleaned up the mess before the rest of the men got there. He stuffed away the emotions, letting the make-up do its work. He still felt like crying, but it felt clearer than it had before.

_**Don't walk away from me**_

_**Don't walk away from me**_

_**Don't you dare walk away from**_

Staying in San Diego was the right choice. He just wondered if Kaz was, has been, or could ever be.

_**I have nothing, nothing, nothing**_

_**If I don't have you**_

He heard Newman over the intercom. "Okay Dave. I've got what I need." Sound check was over.


	24. Dave Moves Forward

"Yeah? Okay! We're totally there!"

Charlie came out of the kitchen with a huge grin on his face.

Howe and Dave looked at him mid-blink while chewing on large handfuls of Poppycock. Howe was able to swallow first. "What was that all about?"

"Oh nothing," Charlie danced about a little like a cat stalking his prey. "We're just going to Portland."

Dave used his tongue to get to a rogue popcorn kernel stuck in his teeth. "We are?"

Charlie grabbed for the pillow he had been sitting on between Howe and Dave while they had been watching the first Matrix movie and then squatted down on it. He began to fake paddle all around the room as though it was a canoe. And then he began singing off-key.

**Old man river**

**That old man river**

**He just keeps holding…**

"Eep!"

Howe had taken the opportunity to throw his pillow to stop Charlie singing before he got too wound up. "So, Showboat then?"

"Hells yeah! My fave! And then they're doing Annie get your Gun in Bham, so we're headed north baby!"

Dave took another handful from the box of Poppycock. He watched Charlie reacting excitedly to the news and he tried to get excited himself. But he couldn't find it. He was biding his time as he chewed, trying to find a reason to feel excited. New people? New town? No Kaz? Why wasn't he feeling excited?

"What's wrong with both of you! Showboat's a great show!"

Howe shrugged. "I don't mind Showboat. It's just not my, you know, favorite. White Christmas is always my choice, if I get one."

"You're killing my buzz, man."

"Think of it as…settled excitement then. Now get your butt back up on the couch so we can finish this movie. Cypher just got them all trapped in the building."

"Ooh, I love this part," Charlie said as he vaulted up and crashed between Howe and Dave, settling in happily. "Start the movie up."

Dave reached for the remote and clicked play. He was still thinking, something deep in his brain shaking loose. He let the movie run a moment, just trying to process and let the thoughts wash over him. And then he spoke, dreading almost each word as it came out. "I…I don't think I'm gonna go."

The movie was paused as Charlie reached for the remote. "What do you mean you don't think you're gonna go? We just got ya functional, man."

Howe raised an eyebrow. "This isn't about Kaz, is it?"

"No! No." Dave reassured them. Kaz hadn't been around for a couple of weeks and Dave was still adjusting to volleyball without him. He had half expected Kaz to jog up and slap him on the back last week and then he remembered what Kaz had done and he was violently glad that Kaz hadn't the nerve to show his face. "It's more about…me. I mean, I love you guys, you know? You helped me get through some really tough crap. But Gert gets crowded and I don't wanna live PO Box to PO Box. I'm just…I'm just kinda getting my feet here."

"Damn it," Charlie sighed as he reached for his wallet.

"That'll be five bucks," Howe opened his hand. "Pay up, sucka."

"You guys had a bet about whether I'd go with you or not?!"

"Well yeah," Howe shrugged, "I wasn't convinced this is what you wanted for your life and I thought you were really starting to like it here. And, I mean, you can't feel bad for not wanting to be a vagabond. Means you got some common sense. Besides, spirit quest partners don't have to physically be there to be there. You've got a phone now and we've got a couple more weeks here. Just, it's okay."

"I do like it here. I feel kind of like a heel doing this to you guys."

"Don't," Charlie reassured him, "we're always back here for productions of some kind and man, you've got some shit to get together. I'm more worried about trying to find you a place out here. Even on Hillcrest."

Howe nodded. "Yeah. I think you're best bet is that one house by the park. What's it called?"

Charlie furrowed his brow. "Blanchet? I can't remember. Well, we'll start calling around pretty soon I think."

"You guys are good to me."

"I know. That's why we put up with your GED practice tests at all hours."

"Dude. You so totally owe us pretzel dogs for that."

Dave nodded. "I know, but I got the test on Saturday and I think I'm ready."

Howe gave a smile. "You are. Then you can start doing a real job or college search for yourself man. See? Silver linings, like I said."

Dave looked down. A part of him wished that Kaz or Kurt were here to share in this joy and nervousness with him. "Yeah. Silver linings."

Charlie hit Dave's knee affectionately. "Hey. We're proud of you. And so are the rest of the guys from Godspell and How to Succeed and all your peeps back home. None of this wallowing bullshit, yeah?"

"Yeah." Dave nodded. "Need to pass the GED test."

"You'll do fine. You're smart."

Dave snorted. "If I was smart, I would've done better the first time around."

Charlie shook his head. "Everyone goes at a different pace. Now can I turn the movie back on, please? Cypher's about to kill Switch and I hate to miss a good death scene."

"You're twisted, man. We'll have to watch Addams Family Values next, won't we?" Howe said as he yanked the remote from Charlie's hand and pressed the play button. The three of them passed the Poppycock back and forth as Neo learned that he was the Chosen One.

Saturday came too soon for Dave's comfort. Howe got up early to get the stuff to make Luthers and they had Luther burgers for breakfast so that Dave would have a good meal. He had trouble eating with a thick throat and his hand shaking, but he still managed. He loaded up a small bag with pencils, testing stuff, a small bag of trail mix for during the break, and then padded his pockets. Kurt had gotten his old ID from home and mailed it to him along with some other stuff. A small note in his handwriting told him to expect something soon without any other details.

Dave exhaled a sharp breath, trying to loosen up his nerves. At this rate, he'd have a breakdown on the streetcar to SDSU. Howe and Charlie drove him to the stop and then watched as he left to take the test. Dave gripped the pole, standing and watching the world move swiftly by.

It wasn't long before he was above the SDSU station, following signs to the multi-level library. Fourth floor, top of the circular building, was the testing area. He was just ascending the staircase when he got the text from Kurt.

Courage.

And then from Blaine.

Courage.

And then from Mercedes.

Kick that test in the ass, boy!

And then from Quinn and Santana and the same time.

You've totally got this Dave.

Buena suerte, we'll celebrate next time I'm in Cali.

And then from the theater folks via Howe's phone.

Everybody wishes you luck. Better than sending five texts from my phone.

_Everyone but Dad and Kaz_, Dave thought morosely. But he knew he needed to shake that off. Based on what Kurt had told them, his Dad did care for him. He hoped his Dad was wishing him well this morning too. He thought he might be. He had already figured out that he didn't want to depend on Kaz.

The entire day was an exhausting blur for Dave. He hadn't done a test like that in a long time, not since the PFOR's in tenth grade. But by the time four o' clock was done, he had finished. He fired off a mass text.

Finished the test. Thanks for your support everyone! I'll find out the results in the next week.

Opening weekend for How to Succeed in Business kept Dave pretty distracted. It seemed like another blur that culminated with a letter at the PO Box that he and the other guys were using.

Dear Mr. Karofsky,

We are pleased to inform you…

Dave smiled to himself, just managing to scan the rest of the letter. He felt like crying, felt like running up to a random stranger and kissing them. He had passed. He'd have a GED, a real chance. He could do it, right there in San Diego. He wouldn't have to go on to Portland like a vagabond or beg for somewhere to sleep and have to go back to Lima.

His hands shook as he texted all the people that were waiting to hear.

I passed!

It seemed like the whole theater community turned out for the bash at Chili's that Howe and Charlie threw for him and it filled him, it filled him with something. A certain lightness. _This was the thing_, Dave thought, _this is the thing that Skye wanted for me_. He was glad that he could at least give that much back in honor of what had been sacrificed for him.


	25. Return of the Fish

"Morning Dave."

"Hey Morgana."

"You want your usual?"

"Sure." Dave looked down at the bakes goods case in the Peet's Coffee he'd been frequenting since the break-up with Kaz. "And maybe one of those strawberry-rhubarb strudel things today."

"Ooh, must be a special occasion," teased Morgana. She opened the case from behind the counter and reached for the pastry with tongs. "Want it warmed?"

Dave shook his head. "No. Cold's fine. Decided to treat myself since I passed the GED test last weekend."

"Congratulations," Morgana smiled as she took cash from Dave after sliding the pastry into a little white bag. "What are your plans now? College?"

"I don't know," Dave said as he picked at the strudel, nodding his head. "This is good though. What do you think of working here? Would you recommend it?"

Morgana shrugged as the steam built up for Dave's usual latte. "I like it here. But it's not everybody's cup of coffee. Best thing is that after about a year or so they help pay for college and work around your schedule if you get up into management."

"How can I apply?"

"Online."

"I'll consider it."

Morgana slid Dave's latte across the open section of counter for ready orders. The place was mostly empty except for one of the other regulars in the corner knitting a purple scarf she'd been working on for about a month. She had her own spot near a corner window in a squishy chair and just seemed to content to smile and knit. "You also might want to try our board in the back, near the restrooms. There's job and college stuff there too. And hey, you gonna be in How to Succeed? Heard you were teching for that one too."

Dave took his latte over to the little station where he could add cinnamon. "No, just backstage this time thank God. Thinking of sticking around but not really interested in techie as a career move."

"Nice hobby to have though."

"Yeah, I suppose. It's definitely been a real lifesaver for me."

Dave took a sip of his latte with cinnamon and his mouth turned into a satisfied wince from the taste and heat. "Mmmm…that's nice. I know it sounds silly to get one of these when it's a hundred and eighty degrees out…"

Morgana held up her hand. "Say no more. I totally drink blended iced coffee in January. Your idiosyncrasies are safe with me."

"Appreciate that," Dave said as he headed toward the restrooms to check out the bulletin board.

What he saw nearly made him drop his latte. There was an announcement for a job fair at SDSU in the next couple of days. The little clip art on the blue paper was of a yellow fish in glasses holding a resume with bold black letters proclaiming SWIM TOWARD YOUR NEXT CAREER!

Was it Skye giving him help again? Another boost by fate? His eyes flitted around the board, not much else to look at. He didn't really want to do yard work unless he had to make quick cash and he was pretty sure he'd never make it as a babysitter. Between working at Peet's coffee and going to the job fair, he'd choose the job fair and do a Peet's Coffee application if nothing better came up.

He took the little slip from the bottom and went to sit down at a wobbly little table. Holding the small slip of paper in his hands, he wondered. _What am I going to do now_? He used up a few minutes on his phone's internet connection looking up the website. _Crap, they want a resume_, Dave thought. _Guess I'll have to write one up, small as it is._

He texted Howe in case he could think of a better way to do a resume.** Headed to the library. Gotta make up a resume for this job fair I just found.**

Howe texted him back shortly. **Which one? Details, man!**

Dave shook his head as he finished his latte. **Here's the address. What do you think? Is it legit?**

**Looks pretty legit**, Howe replied. **Not much time to get a resume together.**

**Yeah, well my resume's not exactly loaded down**, Dave sent.

The day of the job fair was bright without a cloud in the sky. There was the slightest of breezes, which would have been great if Dave had been in a tank top. Instead, his head felt as though it were going to explode from the tight tie he had borrowed from Nando and he felt like he was sweating through his pits.

The job fair itself was held in the SDSU courtyard, a small jog from where he had taken the GED test. A fleet of blue and white canopies held several tables with smiling head hunters and lines going every which way. Dave was an hour early to the thing and yet still seemed to be late.

He ambled about, clutching his little folder and feeling out of depth. What kind of place would even take a chance on him? Homeless with a GED didn't exactly scream responsible and it occurred to Dave that maybe this was all just a big mistake. He passed by tables looking for border patrolmen and engineers and it became further and further evident that Dave probably didn't even qualify to be a bank teller.

Dave found himself in between two lines for Everest College and for the National Forest Protection Service when he heard a voice.

"Hello." He turned toward a shorter girl with long black hair. She blinked at him and continued to give him a soft smile. She was standing behind a table with a banner for The Trevor Project on it. "Are you interested in working with the Trevor Project?"

Dave scooted a little closer to the table, letting someone take his place either of the two lines. "I'm not sure. What's the Trevor Project?"

The girl with the name tag that said she was Lane picked up a pamphlet from the table and handed it to Dave. "The Trevor Project is a non-profit organization that gives lgbtq youth resources or just someone to talk to, especially for emergency cases."

"Emergency cases?"

Lane nodded. "That's a nice way of saying kids at risk of suicide from bullying."

Bullying. A sudden tremor gripped Dave's arm. Dave found he had trouble swallowing and he must have went a little pale because Lane's gaze was narrowing at him a little in concern. He managed to soldier on, not wanting to pass out here, although with the heat and large crowd there was probably little else people would have attributed it to. "That's seems, that seems pretty important and I'd love to help but non-profit means no cash. I, I need a job."

_That's not the problem, is it?_ Dave's mind fired back at him. _What are you really scared of?_

"Well," Lane added helpfully, "it's not even a full time commitment. Even five hours a week can help save three or more lives. And, if your resume's not really up to snuff, it's a good way to add something meaningful to it."

"Meaningful?"

_You could help someone, someone like Kurt. You could do something, Dave._

_I need a job_, he fired back to his brain.

_You need more than that. Work at Peet's Coffee then. Do this. Don't just get a job._

"I've been working at this branch for three years now and it's so rewarding for me personally, knowing that I can even just listen to someone's problems. Mr. Plender does a background check and does personal volunteer interviews, but as long as you're honest there's not much of a problem. I know that you need a job, but what if you can do more for the world than just collect a paycheck?"

"I…" It was true, Dave knew. And he knew that he'd be bored stiff just working at a coffee joint all his life waiting to do something like Godspell again. The people in Godspell had all had other things they were. Lori played the banjo, Nando had two daughters, Hunter had those earrings. Dave hadn't….he had a story he couldn't tell, a half formed thought of a life. It felt like now, like how he was going to answer now was going to dictate something for him, something intangible that he couldn't grasp.

He thought back to the fish that had been on the bulletin board. "I think I can pass a background check. I mean, I've never been to jail or anything."

"Would you like to sign up for an interview slot?"

Dave looked down at the paper full of blank squares. No one else had signed up at the booth yet. He took the clipboard and slid the pen from the metal clasp. He could feel the lump in his throat. The sound of Kurt screaming at him rushed through his ears. Lifetimes ago.

_You just can't deal with how extraordinarily ordinary you are!_

Dave swallowed the lump and managing to hold back tears and a slight trembling panic attack, left his contact information and took the little slip of paper about how to reach the office.


	26. Dave's First Interview

"David Karofsky?"

Dave scrambled to his feet from his chair in the waiting area of the Trevor Project office. The carpet itself was a deep shade of blue and Dave could hear murmurs and sometimes the ringing of a phone that reminded him of the old AT & T commercials. The cubicle partitions here were even that same shade of grey with a nearly white siding.

"Here."

"Come in," the older man stated, letting Dave grab the glass door and stand across the desk from him. The desk itself was best described as organized chaos with empty in and out trays betraying a lack of system. Dave wondered if there was even one of those huge desk calendars under the shifting pile of paperwork. The only discernible piece of ornamentation facing Dave was a desk plaque that announced the desk of Mr. Ross Plender.

Mr. Plender was an older man with a bad comb over and a pot belly. He looked about as uncomfortable in his striped tie as Dave felt in interview attire. Dave clasped his hands together after he sat, trying to avoid looking down at his shoes and swallowing hard.

"So David…is it David or Dave?"

"Most people call me Dave, sir."

Mr. Plender nodded. He had a slight nasal irritation to his voice as though he were going to lapse into snoring at any moment. He looked down at Dave's paltry resume as he talked, nodding a little to himself as he went. "Dave, huh? Good. Good. Too much formality here could keep us from our goal. Tell me Dave, why do you want to volunteer here at the Trevor Project?"

"Well, sir, I…"

Dave's voice stuck. He thought about all the answers he had rehearsed with Charlie about wanting to inspire people and to do something meaningful and he found himself here in the epicenter of the pit unable to recall any of the good stuff he had said. And it had been good stuff too.

"This your first interview, son?"

Dave succumbed to the urge to look down at his shoes. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry I'm not doing very well."

Mr. Plender nodded. "It's okay. I was young once too, though that was more than a few years ago. Ha!" Ross Plender laughed at his own joke. "I'm used to being the first interview. Just take a deep breath."

Dave did as Ross said. "Feel better?"

"Not really sir. I kinda lost my train of thought."

Mr. Plender shrugged. "It happens to the best of us. But you realize I can't really ask you to volunteer until I know why, right? It's pretty important, what we do here."

"Trust me, I know. I wish, I wish we would have had this in Ohio."

"You do."

"We did?"

Mr. Plender nodded as Dave's head rose to meet his eyes in confusion. "Of course. But funding being what it is and counseling positions in schools being cut, well, let's just say we work behind the 8 Ball."

"I…ummm…I guess I want this job because I don't just want to have a job, you know? I…uhh.."

"Would it be helpful if we talked about where you wanted to be in five years first?"

"No, sir. That's just the problem. I guess I don't know what I want to do. I haven't been in San Diego very long and you can kinda see that that's the problem."

Mr. Plender nodded. "I noticed that. Your resume sucks."

Dave sat back a little in his chair. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

Dave went to get up and head for the door when Mr. Plender spoke. "Who said you're wasting my time? Coming in is the hardest step. And I didn't say you couldn't work here yet. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Dave."

"Oh."

Mr. Plender gestured to the empty seat, Dave's hand still resting on the back. "Care to give it a second shot?"

Dave sat down. "Yes sir."

"Okay then. So, do you prefer Dave or David?"

"Dave, sir."

"Okay. And why do you want to work with the Trevor Project?"

Dave took a deep breath. "Because I used to bully people that were gay because I was gay but couldn't, you know, be gay."

"Good. Surprising answer, honest, but good. That's the first step. What do you know about us?"

Dave shrugged. "Just what I've seen on the website sir. It's really good." He didn't think he could admit that he'd spent a good two hours on the It Gets Better link watching videos and crying to himself in the empty dorm room. He couldn't have even really explained it because it had felt…it had felt so wonderful to be able to even feel that way again. Able to acknowledge the pain and the hurt and the mistrust that he'd been through. Hell, that he'd put others through.

"If I run a background check on you, what am I gonna find? Drugs? Jail? Runaway?"

Dave shook his head. "Nothing like that. Not now, at least. I was at Stone Eagle Academy in Georgia. They're this ex-gay organization and I kinda left when they gave me the option of electroshock or electroshock."

"Brave. Most people would've taken the shock."

Dave found himself looking to the side of Mr. Plender's desk. "Don't know about that sir. Doesn't really seem very brave to me to just run."

Mr. Plender shook his head and then began picking up papers and squaring them into a single stack. He placed it all, including Dave's resume, in his inbox. Underneath his desk was one of those goofy large calendars and covering each day were a variety of dots in red and green. The whole thing looked like an out-of-season Christmas tree.

"Would you like to know what these dots represent, David?"

Dave tried to figure it out for a moment. "I can't even imagine, sir."

Ross took a moment and let out a sigh. "The green lights are the cases I hear about when I do staff meetings. They're the survivors, the ones people remember. The good ones. The red lights are from people that chose electroshock or worse. You sure it doesn't mean anything now?"

"I…."

"If you're willing to take a risk with us, I want to take a risk with you. You realize your resume sucks, you know you can't just walk in anywhere and get a job anyways. Recent GED, no permanent address at the moment. But if you knew how many kids like you call us, begging for help, you'd realize how lucky you are. Now I'm gonna go get the paperwork for confidentiality and we're gonna start the volunteer hiring process. If you want."

Dave nodded very slowly. "I'm…I'm grateful for the chance."

"I know." Mr. Plender smiled warmly. "The honest ones always are."


	27. Feed Me, Davey

Dave was walking back to the dorm room with a slight wind kicking up, forcing him to hold his cell phone closer to his ear. "No."

Hunter's voice chuckled on the other side of the conversation. "I'm not lying. They said they wanted you to play Audrey II."

Dave stopped at an awning. "That's, ummm, a girl's role, isn't it?"

"No. It's the plant. Do you need to borrow the movie? I have the secret copy. I got it for Kelly before he moved to Portlandia and he hasn't given me an address yet."

"That's okay. I think I can netflix it and get it sent to me before the big headachy move thing. Wait…secret copy? Is the movie really bad or something?"

"No, there's just two versions. One studio ending and one actual ending that actually happens like it does in the theater."

"Ah. So, they want me to…"

"You'll do some voiceovers and operate the plant from inside. It's like a really intense version of the Lion King?"

"It is?"

"Well, I just don't want to assume you've seen the Lion King on Broadway."

"I haven't, but I saw a thing on the Travel Channel about it once. Can you guys work with my new schedule? I'm not free at all hours anymore."

A girl's voice shouted in the background. "Ah-hah! I knew he couldn't stay away!"

"Do you have me on speakerphone?!"

"No," Hunter said reassuringly. "Mel's just listening under my flowing hair."

"Ah. I don't want to make any promises, Hunter. You know that."

"We miss you. It wouldn't be the same."

"You see me all the freakin' time, dude!"

"I know….what's your point?"

Dave sighed. "Fine. I'll do it. As long as the schedules don't mesh, this won't be my first priority. Is that clear?"

"That's clear. Oh, tell Howe I owe him five bucks."

"You know they're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Pffft. Yeah, it's all they've been talking about besides you for the past two days. You're super lucky, you know that?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah. You're not gonna make me sing again?"

"What was that? You're breaking up."

"I said…."

Then the phone crackled and Dave lost his connection. _Crap. I bet the plant sings._

Dave sighed to himself and then shook his head at the lunacy of it all. Imagine him, the plant in Little Shop of Horrors and an understudy from Godspell. It wasn't anything he couldn't have imagined for himself a year ago, that's for sure.

Dave let out another sigh as he moved closer back to the dorm room, passing Gertrude. He brushed his hand against her side, not sure when he'd see her again. He waited for the sadness to come, the way he had felt over El Pollo Loco last night with his boys Howe and Charlie. But it wasn't as sad as it could have been, just more bittersweet. No, Dave was changing. He could feel it.

About ready to go solo on the Trevor Project phones. Getting his own mail and cooking his meals like a big boy. Hanging out with Hunter and Nando and Mel on his own, like a real person with a real life. It was, it was almost too good to be true.

Dave found himself whistling a tune from Godspell low, but he only heard the tale end as he entered his temporary building to open his temporary mailbox and get…

It was a big yellow envelope and he recognized the handwriting. The mysterious package from Kurt.

He ripped open the side of the package and a couple of letters fell out. Putting them both lengthwise back in the open manila folder, he picked the nearest letter to open. It was small, flat, ivory, and strangely formal.

Your presence is requested….it began in formal font. It was a wedding invitation. Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury. Dave stopped for a moment, racking his brain. He couldn't place Emma Pillsbury but of the women at the school he remembered, he thought she might have been the red head. He had just met with her once. He wondered why he had been invited to their post-Thanksgiving wedding.

He started moving to the stairs to get to his dorm room on the third floor as he opened the second letter.

Dear Dave,

I hope you open up this one first. If not, you should know that I kind of snagged you an invited to Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury's wedding (surprise!). I know you didn't know them well but there's a lot of people that want to see you here in Lima (yes, both of them as well). Including your dad. I kind of keep him up to date during our family Friday night dinners. He's been a staple for a few weeks now and attended a Pflag meeting in Cincinatti last week. I'm proud of both of you, both me and my dad are.

Just in case you're having second thoughts, here's a bit of something to convince you that you're wanted. No, we didn't go overboard or donate organs to get it. But it's enough to get you there and back (or just here if you want to stay. No judgments, but between you and me I think you like San Diego a lot more than you let on).

Your dad gave us over half. It's a shame it took this to bring our families together, my dad and yours really seem to get along. Did you know your dad hates Duke as much as mine? Must be a sport thing.

Anyways, text me so you I know you got this. Think we hid it pretty well, otherwise I'll kick myself for not doing it priority later. I just didn't want to spoil the surprise.

See you in late November,

Kurt

Dave looked at Kurt's signature for a long moment and then furrowed his brow. At the bottom of the envelope he pulled out a small white brick of lined paper that revealed almost seven hundred dollars to help him. He took a long breath, nearly stumbling on the stairs.

He continued moving and texting without looking up, sure footed to his door.

**Dave**: I just got the envelope.

**Kurt**: Good.

**Kurt**: I was wondering when that would get there.

**Kurt**: So?

**Dave**: Well, I can't say how I could say no

**Dave**: Once again, you've made it impossible for me

**Dave**: =p

**Dave**: Just have to check schedules for all my stuff

**Kurt**: My, my. Keeping busy.

**Kurt**: But it's not just your dad that wants to see you

**Kurt**: Blaine wants to make sure you're okay

**Kurt**: I want to see you with my own two eyes

**Dave**: Shucks

**Dave**: You sure know how to make a guy blush, Kurt

**Kurt**: Now, now

**Kurt**: Get ready for lots of teasing about the Broadway thing

**Kurt**: =)

**Dave**: Ha ha

**Dave**: Wondered when you'd pull that card

**Dave**: Did you know today I got asked to play the plant in some play?

**Kurt**: Little Shop? Isn't that a bit high school?

**Dave**: It's for charity or something.

**Dave**: Can you tell me if I have to sing in this one too?

**Kurt**: I don't wanna spoil the surprise

**Kurt**: But yes

**Kurt**: The best thing is that this one can be filmed

**Kurt**: You're going to make a great Audrey II

Two minutes pass

**Kurt**: Dave? You still there?

One more minute.

**Kurt**: Hellloooooooo

One more minute.

**Dave**: Let me…let me text you back.

**Dave**: I'll let you know about the wedding as soon as I know, k?

**Kurt**: Everything alright?

Dave fired off a quick yes, although he wasn't sure that was the appropriate answer.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice was small, making Dave feel incredibly uneasy. "I…I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Why do you think I'd care?"

The eyes fell downcast. The person sitting next to Dave's door huddled in on himself. "I didn't think you would. But I don't have anywhere else to go."

Dave licked his lips. "And whose fault is that?!"

"You're still mad at me."

"Hells bells, Kaz! What would make you think I could get over something like that?!"

"Go ahead. Yell," Kaz waved it off with a free hand. "I deserve it. Get it all out of your system and I'll be on my way."

All of the joy of Kurt's offering of a ticket to a November wedding in Lima was sucked from Dave's body. It was replaced by a sort of tired, deflated anger without any real steam. "I'll go back to my first question. Answer that and we'll see."

Kaz looked up and Dave could see he had been crying, his eyes bloodshot. He looked…defeated. It was frightening, such a change from the Kaz that Dave had always known. "I…."

Dave was over in a flash, before he had known what had come over him. He hunched down, putting his arms around Kaz. "Hey, hey. I'm here, alright. Come on, let's get inside. I'll make some coffee."


	28. Dave and Kaz, Round 2

Dave glanced at Kaz sitting on the couch while he made coffee. The coffee maker was one of the few things Dave had insisted on not packing up just yet and he thought it lucky he hadn't. The apartment seemed barren and devoid of much personality, and Kaz just sitting there not sprawled out and just seeming to stare off vacantly into space didn't add much to the décor.

"You want anything with your coffee? I might have some milk left."

No answer.

"Kaz?" Dave filled a couple of loose coffee cups that were drying on the dish rack and then moved with them slowly so he wouldn't spill. "Coffee."

Kaz took it wordlessly and then let it nearly scald its hand. Dave took it from him and set it on the coffee table which still had bits of Poppycock from Charlie trying to finish the last box before he had run off to take care of last minute errands. Dave sipped from his so he would have something to do while he thought.

Dave didn't know where to begin. Having Kaz here was…it was strange. There shouldn't have been silence between them. They had been intimate, after all. But where to start when trust was broken and yet he had still chosen to come here, of all places? What if it hadn't had been Dave that found him? What would Charlie or Howe have done. "So?"

Kaz let out a deep sigh. "I…I thought people would be flattered. You know how many guys I've dated here in San Diego and from other places, you know? And it's not like I was," Kaz let out a half-hearted exasperated ghost of a smile, "running a porn empire or anything but at least one guy told one guy and there were words like gross invasion of privacy used and well, no one wants to talk to me anymore."

Dave studied Kaz as he spoke, as Kaz unpacked the words and the lonely ache he couldn't seem to ward away. Dave's mind wanted to respond, to retaliate but the best he could do was to listen as Kaz continued.

"I've spent the past week in every bar in town. I was so desperate I even went back down to Murphy's where I got laid the first time from that Aussie naval captain. And they had heard. It's like…it's like the entire city has shut down around me. I've got enemies, Dave. Me. Enemies. I'm a good person!"

Dave bit down on his lip and then spoke. "You're telling me no one ever looked inside that closet before?"

"Well, no. Why would they? I mean, the drink cart is portable and there's really not room for those shelves and I think people just….well, it doesn't matter what they thought."

"What about your friends, Kaz? I mean, don't you have anyone else?"

Kaz scoffed as he turned to look at Dave, his smile turned ghastly and cruel in a mocking way. "If I had, they wouldn't be my friends now. They're boyfriends would have been on those tapes. They might have even in a moment of weakness. And I don't have many friends in the city here, you know? I work and employees and superiors aren't friends. I mean, feelings…you know?"

"I know, trust me," Dave agreed.

Kaz put his hands into his pants pocket and pulled out a USB stick. "Here. I guess I can't make up for what I did. I won't try. I figure I'll get up and leave this room and I'll think about maybe moving out to Catalina or something, getting a job running tours. Those tapes have ruined me Dave. Hell, I didn't even do anything illicit with them and God, I was such a fool."

Dave held the USB stick in the palm of his free hand and quirked a brow. "What…what's on this drive?"

Kaz grimaced. "What's left of the tapes. Yours. I've destroyed all the cds, erased two hard drives and then totally trashed them both to avoid the temptations of resurrection. I've gotten rid of all the cams, donated them to some church group that wanted to talk with some members digging wells over in the Congo or some such nonsense. You hold in your hand the remains of my broken social life. That's what I really came here to do. Thanks for the coffee."

Kaz rose mechanically and Dave looked down at the tiny sign of Kaz's repentance. He thought for a moment about what he was about to say as Kaz reached the door. "Wait."

Kaz turned, standing still.

Dave rose, setting his coffee mug down next to Kaz. "So it's all gone?"

Kaz nodded. "I'd even show you where I had them all hidden if that's what proof you need."

"Why tell me?"

Kaz looked down at his feet. "I guess I thought maybe if I tried to make it right with someone, someone who might be fair to me, that maybe I could get through this shunning with my head held high."

"Was it worth it?"

Kaz took a moment to respond before looking up into Dave's eyes. "You were. That second time. I'd never seen anyone change like that, so quickly. It's like, you're two people sometimes it was so wild and wonderful and I was so glad to be part of it."

Kaz turned to leave again and Dave found himself calling out. "Get your ass back on the couch, Veiste."

"Why?"

"You don't have anything left to lose by finding out."

"True," Kaz sighed and then returned to the couch, "so go ahead. Yell."

"No. That's what you want. You don't want to admit to yourself how serious this whole thing is. Why do you think people shunned you? Why did you think I, of all those people, wouldn't have thought it was a big deal?! I trusted you!" Dave found his voice rising even though he thought he was using restraint.

"I thought it was flattering, that you were just- blowing things out of proportion," Kaz shrugged.

"Seriously?"

Kaz nodded. "Yep. Not so much."

"Not so much, your sweet can. Dude, you realize I can't ever trust you again. Not even this can fix what's happened. Did you just think I'd think you were this wonderful guy again? Do you know how hard it's been to forget you? To not want you there on opening night? To have you come here and ruin my moment of happiness, finding out I was still wanted in Lima?"

"I'll go…."

"No, you won't. Not until you understand," Dave hissed while he felt tears at the corner of his eyes, "how unconscionable your actions were and the way you blew me off. I had feelings for you, we were close. I wasn't asking for anything from you and you violated me. Violated!"

"Dave, I'm…I'm sorry."

"Are you? Are you really? I tried to commit suicide for less than the stunt you pulled!"

The words hit the air and Dave immediately regretted saying them. His bottom lip was trembling and Kaz blinked, taking in air and turning white as though he had just been punched in the gut.

"I…I can try to change."

"Why? Why would you want to? You still like sex, even if you're not taping it. You still don't believe in romance. And that's what I needed, hell, that's what the world needs Kaz. Not more sex tapes, not more bawdy viewings of Burlesque. This shit matters. I spend day after day talking to people who this shit matters to."

"Please, can we stop now?" Kaz was near tears and Dave was shaking. "Can we stop fighting? Can you just be over here on the couch holding me?"

"I don't think I can stand to touch you. I want to hold you. But I want to punch you too."

"Then do it." Kaz rose and moved over to where Dave would have a clean shot, not even a foot from him. If Dave were to hit, he'd fall back on the coffee table and most likely damage Kaz's back. But it would still be a clean hit. He opened his arms as if to give Dave no resistance. "Do something. Just make this stop, whatever the hell it is."

"Don't," Dave's voice warned.

"Do it."

"No."

"Dave."

"Kaz."

And then Dave was leaning forward, but he didn't punch Kaz. He grabbed him. Kaz gasped, surprised, and they staggered back a step from the ferocious hug. Kaz melted into Dave's body, but it wasn't full of lust more than it was full of a need to simply be touched, to acknowledge the body as a real thing. To be in the same space. There were dynamic feelings pushing between the two, familiar and yet painful and yet still so exotic.

Dave eventually stopped trembling about the time that Kaz started crying. "Thank you, Davey. My savior."

"Shut up," came Dave's muffled reply from Kaz's chest as he peaked his head out, "I'm no one's savior."

Kaz shook his head. "Oh Dave. If you only knew…wait, where are Charlie and Howe? Aren't you guys still the Three Musketeers?"

Dave finally broke out of the hug. "We're going our separate ways for now. I'm staying, they're leaving for Portland and then Bham. I'm moving into a teen shelter while I try and figure things out. It's a good move for me."

"No, you're not moving into a teen shelter. You'll move in with me."

"What on God's green earth makes you think…"

Kaz waved off Dave's rebuttal. "No, not like that. We'll convert the front room. I'm not gonna have company anytime soon and you've done more for me in five minutes than the whole of La Jolla for all I care. I'm offering you a real place to stay."

"Why would I say yes?"

"Because I'm irresistible, right? Because I'm gorgeous, right? Because you can't live without me." Kaz gave a weak joking smile.

"You need me, don't you?"

Kaz shook his head. "Yes, you stupid lovable son of a bitch. I need you."

"But just as roommates? No seducing shenanigan shit or anything like that, right?"

"Well," Kaz purred, "I don't know about that. After all…"

"Knock it off, Kaz."

Kaz chuckled. "My God, I've forgotten how serious you can be Dave Karofsky."


	29. Dave's New Sounding Board

"You sure this is what you want?"

Dave stood on the threshhold of Kaz's apartment with Kaz behind him. Howe and Charlie had said polite goodbyes to Kaz but it was clear there was no love lost between them. Their friendships with him had also been changed by the sex tape scandal, though for different reasons than the others.

Dave nodded as he let go of Howe's deep hug. "Yeah."

"You can still come with us, bro."

Dave shook his head, giving a warm half smile and a handshake to Charlie. "No, I can't. Not now. Not when things might actually work out for the best."

"We'll call." Howe said as he started to back away toward Gertrude. Then he spoke to the space between Kaz and Dave. "You call us if you need anything. Okay?" It was a pointed warning to Kaz that Dave wasn't sure he liked. But he couldn't blame them. Everything with Kaz was going to be fresh and sore for at least a little while.

Kaz excepted the warning and grace with his usual humor. "So if we run out of milk at three in the morning…"

Charlie shook his head and turned to go, following Howe. Dave sighed, realizing how hard it was to watch them go. Then suddenly he found himself barking out, "Take care of each other!"

"We will," they called back in unison. "We always do," Howe added. Dave saw them disappear around the corner, Charlie's arm around Howe's shoulder.

Dave looked down at the floor. He heard the rustle of Kaz behind him, and was startled when Kaz put his hand on Dave's shoulder. "You made the right choice. You know that, don't you?"

Dave found himself shaking out of Kaz's grip. "I…I know. But still."

Dave turned to see Kaz nodding, not necessarily disappointed at the lack of familiar comfort. "But still."

"So…what now?" Dave asked.

It took almost a week for Dave and Kaz to get used to the domestic routine, but it was easier because of their natural rhythms to have enough hot water for separate showers and to keep the groceries coming in and the dishes clean.

Dave came home one night to find Kaz in one of his more particularly upbeat moods, which was sometimes grating when Dave came home tired. But it was hard to stay mad at someone who had the enthusiasm of a golden retriever.

"You're just in time!" Kaz sang out from the kitchen.

"Just in time for…."

"Jeopardy!"

"You watch Jeopardy," Dave stated with mild incredulity. "My grandpa used to love this show."

Dave could barely see Kaz through the steam coming from the kitchen. But he found two bottles of Virgil's cola and a basket of garlic bread already on the coffee table in the living room/Dave's bedroom. "Are you kidding?! This is the best game show there's ever been! Watch me rock your world."

"That smell rocks my world."

"Oh yeah. I made noodles," Kaz responded with a contented wolfish grin as he brought out the large bowls and proceeded to sprawl himself over the couch, his legs pinning Dave down on the couch comfortably.

Dave's stomach growled at the scent. "Mother of God. After those giant cinnamon rolls you made this morning?!"

"I can't get enough. You don't understand what this is like! Bread! Bread, Dave! Do you know how long I've been starving myself and now….carbs! I can have carbs again!" Kaz twirled a big scoop of alfredo sauce and noodles onto his fork just to prove his point and then shoved it in his mouth.

Dave reached for a piece of garlic bread. "What the fuck, man? I've seen you eat French toast at six in the morning. And all that pizza?"

Kaz waved Dave off with his hand. "That was post-workout so it was fine. This, this is just pure indulgence….what is the Pythagorean Theorom!" he shouted out merrily.

They played along, Kaz conquering question after question while Dave scored a couple of points with information about old Sandra Bullock movies he'd watched with his mom awhile ago. Thoughts of his mom brought him into serious contemplation about something he'd witnessed at rehearsal at Rockmore High School for the charity Little Shop show.

"Hey Kaz, can we not Tivo through the commercials?"

"That's the best part of having it, though."

"Well, I have a couple things I'd like to talk to you about."

Kaz set down his bowl and muted the commercials. His lips fell into a serious line and his legs receded to their side of the couch. "Is it something I did?"

"No…No! It's nothing like that."

Kaz visibly exhaled. "Good. For a moment there, I thought that maybe…"

"No. I just…well, I think something happened today during Little Shop rehearsals and I…I kinda failed to step in."

"What happened?"

"There's this kid playing one of the extras, name's Denns, Andrew Denns. This poor kid's suffering through some horrible teasing. Came in white as a sheet today and I saw…I saw a letterman jacket through the gap in the door as he ran into rehearsal. He tried to shrug it off, but…"

Kaz nodded, looking down so he could process. "You're thinking it's the same kind of thing that you went through in high school?"

"Hope not. But something about it seemed…familiar. I was thinking of asking Mr. Plender if the Trevor Project does assemblies."

"Can't hurt to ask."

"But what if I'm wrong?"

Kaz shook his head. "Trust your instincts. What if you're not?"

It was Dave's turn to exhale. "Fine. Yeah. I'll do that on Thursday when I head in for my shift. Maybe give Mr. Plender a call before hand."

"Well, that wasn't too difficult. What else you got? Or are we back to Trebek?"

"Not quite. I…" Dave thought about how he was going to phrase his words. "I've been thinking about the wedding in Lima."

"You don't wanna go now? You worked pretty hard getting the stars to align so you could go."

"That's not it. I just…I was just thinking I'm not sure I want to go stag, like I thought I would."

"Are you asking me to be your date?" Kaz quirked his brow, betraying the casual question.

"Ummm…maybe? I don't know. Things are just settling down after what happened and even though Kurt and Blaine and Mercedes will be there….I don't know what I'm really gonna find and I don't wanna drag anyone into anything, you know? Personal drama. And then there's the matter of my dad. And I haven't even gotten my outfit or the gift or anything yet."

Kaz chuckled, shaking his head and reaching for the pasta. "Well, now I know you're nervous. You're rambling."

"You're not helping."

"It's very simple." Kaz stated between bites. "I'm buying your outfit since I'm sure you've never had a suit tailored in your life."

"But-"

"And I'll help you find a date. If there's no one you find acceptable, I'll drive cross country with you."

"Hey wait, I didn't-"

"Can't help you with the gift thing though. That's not really my thing so much. At least not happily ever after shit like that."

"Kaz! You can't just plan things for me like that!"

Kaz unmuted the Tivo so he could catch up on Double Jeopardy. "Please. That's why you brought it up."

"Kaz…"

Kaz sighed as he paused the show again so he only missed a couple of questions about 13th century France. "Look, we'll go as friends. I can pose as your boyfriend or just be your shoulder or whatever. As far as the outfit goes- look- I'm saving a ton of money on booze and going out and stuff because of what happened and it would be more fun for me to do this than most of what I've done in ages. Further, I've never done the cross country thing and I haven't taken a week off in about four years. So if you think we can stand each other in a car for the three or so days it probably takes to get to Ohio, I'd recommend taking me up on my offer. I'll even chip in for separate hotel rooms if you want."

"You're serious then."

"As serious as the contestants on Biggest Loser during the temptation challenge. Now can we watch Jeopardy please? I wanna watch the pilot episode of Lost before I have to write over it and then I've gotta head to bed so I can be up when my gym opens. I've signed up for a new Zumba class."

Dave's mind reeled as Kaz sunk into his food and television. Dave wasn't sure he thought it was a good idea, but it was better than the incomplete ones he had formed in his mind. He just hoped that Kaz wasn't underestimating how much of a mistake this could be. He acquiesced to Kaz's assertive nature in silence and hoped for the best as he reached for another piece of garlic bread.


	30. The Weight of Kaz in Chickens

Dave threw the pad of paper across the wall. "I suck at this!"

"You suck at what now?" Kaz called out as he closed the door behind him. He walked into Dave's bedroom and surveyed the paper carnage. There were wadded balls strewn about the room, and a few even aimed at a toy hoop that Dave had hung over the old closet door. Amazingly, not one of the paper balls had made it in the small metal waste basket in the bottom. Dave was sitting on the floor, looking completely exhausted. "Ummm…."

"I blame you for this!" Dave huffed without getting up.

"No, no. I think you did this on your own. Maybe you should try…"

"Not being such a jerk-faced loser! I tried that already! Oh God, I think I'm gonna throw up…"

Dave rose and tried to barrel to restroom but found himself impeded by Kaz's grip. "Hold on, whoa! Whoa! Whoa there, Davey boy! What in the hell is going on?"

Dave swallowed hard, gasping for air and then tried to focus on Kaz but couldn't seem to keep his gaze. "I…you….Mr. Plender….Trevor Project…"

"One word at a time," Kaz chortled. "Here, let's get you sat down on the recliner and I'll put on a pot of coffee…"

"Coffee," Dave nodded. "Coffee good."

Kaz started rustling around the kitchen while Dave sunk into the recliner that Kaz had kept in the living room for when they wanted to watch tv together. Dave's sofa bed was folded in as he refused to get a regular bed even though Kaz had tried to insist. He looked at his shoes until Kaz came back. "So…."

Dave took a sip of the scalding brew and let it calm his nerves. It was his favorite- the Kona blend with the lion on the bag. "I did what you suggested. I talked to Mr. Plender, you know? I went into his office and he asked me again to call him Ross and I said that I couldn't do that and I was sorry," Dave shook his head slightly so he'd stop rambling, "and I told him about what was happening with Andrew, you know? And he said two things. Very quickly. Or maybe I just heard them quickly."

"What?"

"The Trevor Project does do some school stuff for assemblies and Rockmore High happens to be on the docket. But that's not the issue. The issue is that he thinks I should go and give the presentation speech thing."

"And I agree."

"You agree?! How?! What?!"

"Calm down," Kaz chuckled, "what's the big deal? You were in Godspell, weren't you? If you can do that, you can do anything!"

Dave rose from the recliner, standing at full height to try and make Kaz see the seriousness of the issue. "But this is more important! I can't just, you know, go in there and seem all stupid and I'm not brilliant and I'm just…I'm just a teenager for Christ sake!"

Kaz blinked as Dave fumed. "Dave, what are you all worked up about? This seems like a good thing, a chance to go back and maybe help…"

"But I had my second chance and I blew it!"

"You get more than two chances."

"Ya think?"

"Yeah. Now calm down. Are you telling me you've spent the afternoon trying to write a speech?"

"No. I've only been home an hour," Dave stated grumpily.

Kaz whistled low. "This is an hour's worth of work? Nice."

"Don't judge me. I know how badly I suck."

Kaz punched Dave lightly on the arm. "I wouldn't say you're that bad at it."

Dave rolled his eyes and sighed, going about the task of cleaning up the wads of paper. "Shut up, Kaz."

"Fine, but then you're gonna miss what I found in the gay weekly press this week."

"I thought you said those things were only good for finding tricks."

Kaz shrugged at the air as Dave continued to stoop down at pick up the mass graves of paper. "Usually. But there was also this this week."

"What was…"

And then Kaz was holding an advertisement very close to Dave's nose. Dave blinked a couple of times to make sure he was reading it correctly. "Isn't that a bit out of season?"

"It's almost October, isn't it?"

"I don't know….I-I guess it is….You want to go and find you a date? I'm all for it, I guess." Dave stated nonplussed.

Kaz took the ad away from Dave's face and looked over it again himself. "Big picture, dude! We're gonna do this for you."

"For me? Oh no, no, no. I don't…I've never….you're insane."

"Insane like a fox! Now what costume do you want to wear? Something traditional or fun or…"

"You're not listening. We're not doing this."

"It'll be fun!"

"I'm not 21, Kaz."

"Oh p-shaw. Like you've never had a fake id."

"Not the point."

Kaz crossed his arms. "You'll go with me and find a date for that wedding or I'm going to show up to said wedding in a chicken costume."

"You wouldn't dear."

"Complete with bowtie."

Dave sighed. "Seriously?"

"I never joke about chicken costumes. It'll be fun!" Kaz punched Dave lightly on the shoulder again. "Buck up, soldier! Ooh, maybe we should get you an Army costume! We can get one of those green things from the party store and pretend like you're a toy army man…"

_Oh God_, Dave thought, _this is all gonna be a disaster_.


	31. Dave Speaks the Truth

**Kurt**: Now remember, they're more afraid of you than you are of them.

**Dave**: Wtf? Isn't that dogs?

**Kurt**: Same thing, right? High school wasn't that long ago.

**Dave**: I think I'm gonna throw up.

**Kurt**: Well, just do it with confidence then.

**Kurt**: But seriously

**Kurt**: I'm behind you. And so is Blaine. And our dads.

**Dave**: Thanks Kurt.

**Kurt**: =)

Dave walked into the office of Rockmore High School and grabbed the special pass on the counter they had laid out for him. As he walked toward the gym where the assemblies took place, he looked around. The hallways and lockers seemed a lot smaller than the ones back in Lima and yet there seemed to be so many more of them there.

Kaz had talked him out of wearing a tie, but he still felt strangled and uncomfortable. Kurt's words of comfort had done nothing to stop the tingling sensation going across his entire body. _Is this what a stroke feels like?_

He found the gym easier than he would have if he hadn't been there before and found that a projector and podium were set up. He settled into the metal folding chair that had a piece of paper with his name on it and then shot up just as quickly when the principal walked in.

"Principal Arbella, you must be Mr. Karofsky."

"Please, call me Dave." Dave gripped the principal's hand, noting the firm shake. The principal was a tall, dapper male in his late forties with some sort of fondness for Oxford jackets.

"Alright Dave. Nervous?"

"Little bit. First speech."

The principal shook his head. "Don't be. These are good kids…mostly. We don't really need the Trevor Project's help so much, but it's always good to get reinforcement on what we're always preaching. Good kids come from good values!"

"Right," Dave nodded but internally his insides had turned to ice. That whole "values" thing sounded a little chilly to him coming so unassumedly from the principal's mouth.

"Here they come."

And they began to filter in like a large mob. Bleacher after bleacher, row after row. An endless sea of faces, most of them uncaring and more than a few chatty. Dave wondered how undignified it would be to run. And then he noticed something. Of the few kids that waved at him, Andrew wasn't there. He'd told Andrew about this thing, right?

Then Dave noticed them. The football players. The jocks. The pack. The sea of blue in a multicolored ocean. He could hear his own voice and it made his face go pale. His want to run diminished to a point where he felt frozen standing in front of his chair.

"…and from the Trevor Project, David Karofsky!"

Dave snapped out of his revelry in time to hear his name and there was a polite smattering of applause, mostly from the teachers.

Dave shuffled his note cards on the podium and cleared his throat. He looked down as he read. "In 19..."

_Oh God, I'm bored already. Look at me, hunched over. I look like I need reading glasses._

" and the Trevor Project stands for…."

_Yeah, that's it. They can clearly see that this is important. Jesus, Dave, didn't being in Godspell teach you anything?!_

"….we've got a slide here with the…"

Laughter. From the jock section. Something inside of Dave went from fire to ice in a nanosecond.

"Hey! You over there! You think this is funny?" Dave heard his voice bellow out of the microphone before he could stop it and he could feel the entire auditorium stop, teachers and principal included. His eyes went wide, surprised as anyone else. But he supposed the damage was done.

"You….you come up here."

It was a jock of course, sauntering his way to the stage. His pants were saggy beneath his jacket and he had a crew cut that gave Dave the image of a pale Doberman pincher. All he needed was a club and a football and he would have been Dave…god, maybe two years ago.

"You got a name?"

"Name's Jack…Jack McFarland!" The jock put his hand out to shake and Dave stood still, nostrils beginning to flair.

The microphone was able to pick up most of the conversation between the two. "Tell me Jack what you think is so funny about my speech?"

"Well, nothing…."

"Really? Must have been quite a good joke over there in your little corner of jocks then. Want to tell it up front? Bet it was about a skateboarder with long hair, wasn't it? Or maybe about that awesome girl that just happens to have purple hair? Making jokes about her being easy or something?"

"I….Hey, you don't know me!"

"Yeah I do. Cause I was you. Now go sit down and shut the hell up."

Jack stood stock still as Dave glared at him and then he plucked the microphone off of the podium and began to speak. "I was a jock three years ago. I made fun of people, I slushied them. I played hockey and football and bullied people to the point where I threatened to kill them. And I was angry. And full of shit. I was hiding the fact that I was gay and I just happened to pick the most gay kid in school to bully. I am not proud of that. I am not proud of what I did. And then when I was forced out of the closet, I tried to kill myself. I want you to close your eyes for a moment and picture the worst feeling you've ever had in your life."

Some of the eyes closed uneasily but Dave didn't care.

"It was worse than that feeling, that image in your mind. And you know what was even worse than that? My dad. My dad found my lying in my closet maybe minutes from not making it. And not one of your parents wants that. They might yell at you, maybe they're shitty! But no one wants that."

"You probably feel fat. You probably feel unloved. You think you're a freak. You think because the jocks tell you who you are or because you get dunked in a toilet that your life is hell. And you're right. Your life is hell because of all those things, the thoughts, the negative shit, the peer pressure all comes tumbling down on you. And maybe it stops after high school. Or maybe the bullies just get more clever. I'm not here to give you false hope. I'm here because I believe in what I'm doing."

"I volunteer at the Trevor Project answering phone calls every day from kids who are just like you. Who are so different that they are within minutes of being found by their parents. And I'm not saying things are magically better for me. That's not it. Fuck, if that were only true. But I'm saying that I chose to embrace who I was. And it's been hard, but it's been so good."

"I'm friends now with the kid I bullied. His name is Kurt and he's wonderful. He gave me the courage to stand up here today and say you are okay. You with your long hair and skateboard. You, yeah, the girl with the nose ring. And you, that guy with the monkey backpack. You know what I say when they put you down? You say screw'em. And you don't say because of some pretentious "I'm better" bullshit."

"You say it because you're gay and you can't say it. Or because you're dyslexic and you can't say it. Or because you throw up your food after dinner and you can't say it. And you say it because you may not be brave it that moment but you will be brave someday later. And those things and people that eat you up on the inside, they won't be able to touch you."

"Don't let the jocks tell you who you are. You want to be in Glee club, you be in Glee club. You like football, try out even if you don't think you've got a prayer. You want to learn Korean, there's a kid in this school who knows it, I'm sure. And those people you tease, they're just like you. They want those things too."

"Don't be a bully. That's our message at the Trevor Project. We care about you. You are important. Please, if you're considering killing yourself, hurting yourself, eating or starving yourself to death, never coming out, leaving the state just because you're scared, think again. Our phone lines are open. We are there for you."

Dave stood there for a moment, unsure of when he had hopped off the platform. He was standing in the middle of gym, right in the place where the basketball would've been tossed in the air and two guys would've gone after it. He was scared he had said the wrong thing, revealed too much.

And then there was applause. Thunderous applause. There were students crying, coming up to him and hugging him. Teachers nodding and standing. He was dumbstruck, too overwhelmed to feel and pretty sure he was crying himself. It seemed like this riot, but also this amazing thing. He looked back and there was Jack, still standing stock still and wide eyes. There eyes met and Jack just kind of…looked away.

But Dave was too busy in another instant to notice much more.

They spent the next hour in groups just chatting. It had been this really informal thing where people had wanted to talk with Dave and unload and then one of the math teachers had thought that circled groups of eight or so kids would work great and it kind of happened.

Dave finally untangled himself from the last group and found himself walking out, feeling both light and vindicated and yet afraid. He had definitely gone off the script and he knew Mr. Plender had patience but would he have enough patience for what Dave had just done?

Then he heard the clearing throat in the empty hallway. He turned to see Andrew Denns, the kid who had inspired him to come.

"Hey Andy, didn't see you in the auditorium."

Andrew looked down at his checkerboard Vans. "I was…I was hiding in the boys locker room. I knew everybody else had to be at the assembly. Didn't think I'd be missed."

"Why'd you think that man?"

Andrew crossed his arms. "Did you mean it…what you said about being brave?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah."

"You were….really brave today."

"Gotta be brave everyday. That's what I was trying to say. I was hoping you would hear that. I saw what they were, you know, busting your balls like that. And it's not right. It's just not."

"Thanks. It was…It was a really good speech."

"Andrew…"

Andrew began to back away as though he wanted the conversation to end. "I'll see you at rehearsal, Mr. K."

"Wait…"

Andrew stopped. Dave's hand extended and he gulped. "It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. You're okay, Andy. You're a good guy, okay?"

"You think?" His voice came out so small and all Dave wanted to do was grab him and hug him. He was suddenly aware of how big the place must seem to someone like Andrew, someone who seems scared but covered it with bravado and theater.

"I do. And I don't say that to just anyone."

"Thanks. My…my dad doesn't think I'm a good guy. He think the anime thing is stupid and my music is too girly and that my…he thinks I'm gay."

"Are you?"

"No…I just…there's no one here I want."

"Then be that guy. It's okay. Single, don't even need to mingle. And even if you decide to be gay later, you matter more than his opinion. Man, my mom thinks I need Christian counseling. She doesn't accept me. And forget my grandma. But my friend Kurt? His dad may not get it, but he loves him so much. Just like you are loved."

"I…."

"Whenever someone gets you down, say that to yourself, okay? You are loved."

"I…I am loved."

Dave smiled. "Yeah. Okay?"

Andrew gave a weak smile. "Okay."

"Now you should probably get to wherever the hell you short people go."

"Short?" Andrew snorted. "Please bitch, I'm compact."

Dave chuckled and Andrew shook his head and then Andy turned to leave. Dave watched him go, waving when Andrew looked back hesitantly and covered it with a wave. Dave left the school knowing that this was the feeling he'd always wanted to have. The feeling of having made a difference.


	32. Bond, Dave Bond

"You ready?" Kaz asked as he straightened Dave's tie in the bathroom mirror.

"No. You sure we have to do this?"

Kaz smiled as Dave turned to him. "Well, you just shoot the guys that helpless adorable puppy dog look you just shot me and you'll be golden."

"I did what now?"

Kaz just chuckled and shook his head. "Give me a spin. Let me see what you look like."

"Jesus, Kaz. I'm just going at James Bond. It's not like I'm full out drag or something."

"I really wish you'd have let me…."

"No."

"Well fine," Kaz stated as he rolled his eyes, "be boring then. But you can't beat the classics."

"I think flying spaghetti monster is taking the whole thing a bit far. This is supposed to be fun."

"It will be! And I would've gone as Rage if you hadn't talked me out of lycra."

"You're not Lance Armstrong. And not even he should be wearing lycra. Personal opinion."

"Oh come on, Dave. You were an athlete! You should be all for lycra…all those unitard locker room fantasies…"

Dave tried to head Kaz off at the pass as he went to the kitchen to take a last swig out of his can of ginger ale. "One, they're called singlets. And two, have you ever been in a locker room? There was never time for those sort of …shenanigans to happen."

"You're such a puritan, Dave. Now can we go or are you gonna change your mind for the fifth time today?"

The mixer was being hosted on a boat in the marina downtown, so it took a good hour to find parking, Kaz spending a little bit of time muttering about "not taking the streetcar" and Dave trying not to hit the imaginary brake when Kaz did what Dave delightfully referred to as "California driving".

Dave could hear the music as they walked down the pier and the lit ship did not disappoint. It was at least three stories tall, a regal looking yacht stationed in the harbor. They were handed their first complimentary drinks after making it past the bouncer and Dave suddenly felt silly in his classy James Band costume. There were a bevy of people in a variety of dressed states and far more clashing pinks, yellows, and bad tan jobs than he was comfortable with. Were these really the people that had shunned Kaz? Dave marveled at why he would care what most of them would think anyways.

"Names?"

"I'm…"

"This is Dave Bond and I'm Charles, the flying spaghetti monster," Kaz interrupted as Dave started to tell the woman dressed as Elvira, who took down their information on her clipboard.

"Ah ha. Well, let's see. Have you done the lock and key mixer before?"

"No," they replied in unison.

"Okay, so Dave, you'll be key eight and Charles, you're lock three. Here's the deal. DJ Danni will give a little intro at about ten and then you get five minutes per table. Locks stay in the stationary chairs on the outside of the tables and the keys move around the inside. Start at your table number. Got it?"

"Umm…"

"We'll figure it out. Now, you guys got mixed drinks here or just champagne?"

"Four drink max, bartender is over there. Good luck gentlemen."

"Thanks! I've got a hankering for a cosmo…"

Kaz went to maneuver away through the crowd and Dave seized his arm. "You're not just gonna leave me standing here, are you?"

"You said you'd been to gay bars before, what's the big deal?"

"This is a lot bigger than Scandals and a lot more… out, Kaz."

Kaz tilted his head as if trying to figure out what Dave was saying. "It'll be good for you. Go, mingle, find your wedding date. It's not that big a ship. I'll be over nursing a cosmo and hitting futilely on the wait staff."

"Wait…don't…"

And then Kaz had slipped through the crowd and Dave found himself feeling a little seasick. Something was wrong with this, all this seemed wrong. He was wrong. He was seized with an urge to be back in Lima with Kurt and Blaine at Scandals and eyeing Sebastian and his sleazy pick-up lines from across the room. At least that was enclosed and everybody knew his name.

"Welcome, young blood donuts!" The deejay came over the loudspeaker at the end of the J-Lo song that had been playing. Deejay Danni was dressed as the vampire from Hocus Pocus complete with cape and pajamas. "It is time to play Lock and Key. Vlah! When you hear the strains of the Monster Mash, those with keys will switch chairs!"

The first lines of Monster Mash came on and Dave watched people heading off to tables and chairs around the side of the ship. He looked for key chair number eight on the inside of the tables and made his way over. The guy with lock eight was a slight thing with a tanned body and an outfit that would have made Cher feel nervous for the amount it revealed. He spent the five minutes on his phone after taking one look at Dave.

Dave finished his champagne at table nine when the guy spent five minutes talking about his hair care routine after Dave made a passing comment about his shade of blonde, which, incidentally was apparently called "Betty White Blonde" and that was a phrase that Dave never wanted to hear again.

Instead of heading to the next table right away, he thought he'd be the rude one this time. He found Kaz, or "Charles" as he was referring to himself, in his element with some guy chatting away and laughing as though they were bosom buddies. _Jesus Christ_, Dave thought, _I'm so hopeless_. He headed toward the bartender.

"Please, for the love of God and all that is holy, tell me that you have beer here."

The bartender smiled, Dave noticing for a moment that he was both cute and masculine and looked as though his nose had just been recently reset after a fight. It was something that only a former sports guy would have noticed. "Bud, Bud Light, Miller, and Heineken."

"Bud Light is fine. Just…just nothing fruity."

"Mystery date not working out for you?"

Dave turned to look at the guy who talked, turning from where he reclined on the railing. He was within earshot of the bartending table but far enough to not be accused of eavesdropping. He was late thirties with worry lines in his brow, nails that had never heard the word manicure, and a grease monkey outfit, complete with enticing opened blue work shirt and a patch that proclaimed him Steve.

Best of all was that he was holding a long-necked Bud Light as well. Dave shook his head and went over to join him. "Not in the least. Man, if any of these guys ever came to Ohio, I'm afraid they'd be strung up from the nearest light pole. It's like they're just…"

"Flaunting it?"

"Good word, thanks. I'm Dave," he introduced himself with a handshake. "And you're actually Steve?"

Steven nodded. "Steven, actually. Guilty as charged. And you're costume is…a band leader?"

"Ummm," Dave answered as opened his arms to examine his own costume. "I'm supposed to be James Bond. My roommate was trying to convince me to dress up as something else but, well, he's the spaghetti monster over at three."

"Classy. He drag you here?"

"Under extreme protest, yes. I didn't mind my old gay bar in Ohio. I mean, we had drag queens but Christ almighty…"

"You sound pretty old, kid. Careful or your dentures'll fall out."

"Hey, that's rich. Aren't we a little young for you or you just looking to stock up on Pampers?"

Steven snorted and tipped his long neck at Dave. "Touche."

"What are you doing here, anyways? You're dressed up as a grease monkey."

Steven made a face. "Two secrets. One, the booze here is always excellent at a great price. Only better stuff is at Kickers. Second, this isn't a costume. I'm a grease monkey in real life too."

"Cool. Don't know much about cars myself, just enough to get by. Got my best friend for that. His dad runs a tire shop, still fixes cars though."

"Sounds like a good guy. Is he gay too?"

"Nah. Kurt's dad is cool though. So…uhhh…what type of cars do you like? Sorry, I bet you hear that all the time?"

"Not as much as you'd think, Dave- right? Well Dave, I like mopars but I also have a soft spot for classic Thunderbirds."

"Thunderbirds. I could get behind that."

"You could probably get behind quite a bit," Steven quirked his brow and Dave jumped a little bit in his skin when he realized Steven was checking him out. He suddenly felt slightly flustered and could feel the crawl of a blush over his skin.

"I…uhh…"

"Oh, that's adorable."

"Shut up, you're adorable," Dave mumbled.

"You think I'm adorable in my greasy jump suit with my crows feet? God, you don't belong here, do you?"

Dave downed the rest of his beer in one shot and got another from the bartender. "Starting to feel like I belong a little more already," he answered.


	33. Press 2 For Wedding Gift Help

"Hello? Kurt?"

"Ummm…hi! This is not Kurt. This is Blaine."

"Oh. Sorry. Do I have the right number?" Dave took a moment to check his phone.

"….in New York helping Rachel pick out classes. He left his phone with me for the day. Mine's broken. Sounds like you're still Dave?"

"Just barely. Thought I gotta tell ya, I question it some days."

Blaine chuckled on his end of the phone. "Oh yeah, I have those days too. So would you like me to take a message for Kurt for when he gets back? I can't guarantee tonight though he might be on Rachel's skype."

"No," Dave thought, "I guess…I guess it's not that important."

"Could I be of any help?"

"Maybe? How well do you know Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury?"

"Fairly well. Are you getting their wedding gift?"

"Yeah. I'm kinda standing here in Bed, Bath and Beyond, and holy shit do they say beyond when they mean it. I figure somebody back home might know what they need more than me and the staff here is nice but I'm not spending 300 bucks for a red engraved standing mixer."

Blaine gave a heartier laugh and Dave realized that he could see Blaine across the phone and picture Kurt with that laugh for the rest of his life. The thought, though, didn't kill him as much as it had used to. He couldn't decide if that was great or not, but he knew it was good in some ways. It was comforting, among other thing.

"Would it be horrible to ask for your help Blaine?"

"Don't see why not. What's on the list? I let Kurt pick out the gift since he just wouldn't let it go and he got them this really nice plate set."

"What would you have gotten them?"

"You're not getting out of this that easily."

"Damn. Shit! Just narrowly avoided knocking over a Yankee Candle display."

"Easy there, tiger. Calm down and we'll get through this together."

"You're not gonna start quoting Star Wars at me, are you?"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"No. This store not being three levels high would. Ooh, Keurig's are on sale. Are they coffee people?"

"Not really."

"Damn. Maybe I'll text Kaz later and see if we should get a Keurig."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just…I thought you said Kaz."

"I did. We're roommates."

"But weren't you…?"

"It's…it's complicated. And that whole mystery date boat thing didn't help either."

"Oooh, sounds intriguing."

"Not quite. We both met people. I'm still involved, he's still unattached. Apparently, it's all very west coast to stay with someone you sleep with a couple of times."

"Wow. Well, that must be nice?"

"I wouldn't know. Sometimes it's weird cause…are we okay to talk about this? You being with Kurt and me being…well, me?"

Blaine chuckled. "It's fine. I'm even working while we talk, helping do this hay bailing decoration thing for Homecoming."

"Oh God, I miss homecoming."

"Trust me, if you were here, you wouldn't be missing it. Oh, I'm so sorry Dave…."

"Don't be. Things worked out for the best. And it's not like I'm never going to see you guys again, right? Can't seem to avoid each other since we both care about Kurt so much."

"Yeah."

"I just…I just wanted to….waffle iron!"

"What?!"

"Sorry, trying to cut the tension? They've got a waffle iron in the shape of wedding bells."

"Vetoed. And don't worry about it being awkward. You're miles ahead of a lot of people in regards to "us", trust me."

"Sebastian's not still giving you crap, is he?"

Blaine took a moment to answer while Dave mulled over cherry wood frames next to monogrammed pillows. "Sebastian…is who he is. He's gotten better, or tried to. I think what happened with you hit him hard."

"That's good. I hope somebody got something positive out of it."

"I think you did too."

"I….let's not talk about this now. I'm not disagreeing, I'd just rather stick with not heavy stuff while present shopping."

"Agreed. God, can't believe they're finally getting married."

"Pretty soon we'll all be shopping for baby stuff too, I guess. Cute plushy giraffes and collapsible alphabet bricks and stuff…"

"Sounds like you've been doing your research."

"I….there's a toy store two shops down. I felt the old knock in my ticker when I saw the kids in the shop."

"Awww, Dave. You old softie."

"Don't tell Kurt. I'll never hear the end of it."

"Your secret's safe with me. Oh hey, congrats on your first Trevor Project thing. Kurt told me."

"Owe him thanks more than me. I wouldn't have ever done it without his encouragement."

"I'm glad you two've found good common ground."

"Yeah…say, Blaine?"

"Hmmm?"

"I think this is hopeless. You know what I was really thinking?"

"What?"

"It's not on the list, but I was thinking of getting them a charity thing for the Save the Music thing on VH1. Does that sound silly?"

"Why would that be silly?! That sounds amazing!"

"You think so?"

"Definitely. Do it."

"Yeah, but then it's just a stupid envelope. There's no big box like you always see in the movies."

"I refer to my earlier softie comment."

Dave found himself chuckling over the phone, the sound of him discarding the cart in the background following. "Thank God you helped me make that choice. That was horrible. Like that damn jumping spider at the party store."

"Oh God, I hate that thing. I nearly fell into a column of Power Rangers costumes going in to get colored hair spray."

"Colored? What are you going as this year?"

"Shiny silver statue guy from youtube! I'm going full-on robot this year, complete with bow tie."

"You are a good man, Blaine Anderson."

"Hey, no arguments from me. What's next on your agenda?"

"That was my agenda, glad to have it done too. I'll stop in Peet's for a latte and then probably stop by the school to check out how my Audrey II costume is going. I'll do the charity thing when I finish hotel room stuff."

"Sounds good, Dave. Anything else I can help you with?"

"Nah, but you've done enough. So good to talk to someone. I know we've kinda got a history but I think, under other circumstances…"

"Hakuna matata, okay? And you have a good day now."

"Thanks. I'll- I'll do that."


	34. Not So Secret Admirer

"Thanks. I'll-I'll do that."

Dave closed the phone, happy to have talked to Blaine and then he couldn't seem to move. His gaze had wandered to a building across the way from the shopping center. He found himself finally walking, unsure and jerky on his feet.

It was…It was a church. But the church had a Pride flag hanging out front like it was no big deal and they were having services on a Saturday afternoon. Though it was not unheard of in Ohio to have Saturday night services, there were certainly no Pride flag churches, or Metropolitan Community Church as he could read the letters from a certain distance. And churches with Saturday services in his part of Ohio were definitely not this popular.

He kept moving alongside the shopping center, looking out at the church that seemed close and yet miles away. He kept the gaze of the Pride flag until it was beyond the corner of his eye. He stopped and leaned against a wall to catch his breath. A part of him was curious about going over, imagining all the reasons they might have a Pride flag on their lawn. But Dave wasn't sure he could do it. Wasn't sure he wanted to. He imagined they were friendly. Maybe faithful. But then he thought about Stone Eagle. Dave's mind was starting to become an unpleasant space. And then his phone buzzed and broke his revelry.

**Kaz**: You have to get home now.

**Dave**: Why? And hey, what do you know about the Metropolitan Community Church?

**Kaz**: It's a surprise.

**Kaz**: I don't know. You want me to google it?

**Dave**: No, no that's fine.

**Dave**: Is this a good surprise?

**Kaz**: Ummm…that depends. You'll probably be okay with it.

**Dave**: ?

**Kaz**: Just get home.

Kaz's text had saved him, given his mind enough time to process questions and fear, or at least to file them away for later. He breathed, letting his head hang down for a second. Then he shook it off and began moving toward the trolley. He couldn't get the place out of his mind though, it occupied the back of his thoughts all the way to the apartment.

"Hey Kaz? What's going-"

"You have secret admirer," Kaz stated with glee as he shoved a bouquet of roses in Dave's face. They weren't red though. The roses were mostly orange, some weird light orange yellow which made Dave think of peaches, and two yellow ones with red tips in the midst of the others.

"There's no card?" Dave asked, startled that somebody was sending him flowers.

"Oh, there's a card," Kaz pointed to the place on the stems where it was dangling from, "and another five minutes and I totally would have opened that sucker and read it."

Dave shuffled the bouquet around as he closed the door. "Glad I got home when I did then," he mumbled. The lettering was done block print and not by hand. Dave furrowed his brow as he read.

Sorry, I know it's horribly out of date to send roses, but I couldn't help it. Didn't want you to think I'd forgotten you or anything. Hope we haven't seen the last of each other. -Steven

"Well, who's it from?!"

"Ummm…what?"

"The roses. Dave. Who sent you roses?"

Dave looked back down at the card and gulped. "Steven. The, the guy from the lock and key mixer."

"The grease monkey that you talked with for three hours?! Isn't he a bit…long in the tooth?"

"Distinguished," Dave countered with, "and hey, I didn't say anything about the guy you attached yourself to."

"What was wrong with Malik?"

"He had crazy eyes."

"He was a volleyball instructor! We had stuff in common! And it's not like I'm long term dating him or anything," Kaz stated as he crossed his arms.

"Well," Dave said as he moved past Kaz to the kitchen. He thought he might find something to use as a temporary vase but they didn't even really have a big enough bowl. "that's your choice."

"So the grease monkey sent you flowers."

"Roses," Dave corrected. "He sent me roses."

"Sounds like a perfect guy, the man of your dreams," Kaz stated as he voice dripped with acid.

Dave blinked. "Jealousy is not a good color on you, Kaz."

"Jealous?" Kaz cocked his head. "I'm not jealous. I'm just wondering who sends roses in this day and age."

Dave smirked to himself as he held the roses. "Well, we don't have anything to put them in. Think I should go over and see him at his shop or something? I mean, I can pick up a vase or something on the way and leave them in your car."

"You're taking my car? You're going over to see him?"

"I don't want these things to die, Kaz!"

"Seriously, though. Who sends flowers?"

Dave sighed, shaking his head. "People that still believe in romance do, Kaz. We can't all be like you."

Kaz waved Dave off. "Fine. Take my car. I'm going spend the afternoon playing the new Bioshock anyways. My gamefly stuff came in."

"Cool," Dave countered with though his mind was still on the roses, "let me know how you enjoy it."

Dave waited until he was in Kaz's car and then he sniffed the roses. They were…they were lovely. It was kind of strange to Dave that they weren't red but they made him smile. Someone who had barely known him had liked him well enough to send flowers.

Dave bit down on his lip and then set down the roses on the passenger seat. He went for his wallet and then started thumbing through the cards, humming to himself as he went. _A-ha! There you are_. It was a little creased, but he could still make out the address on Steven's business card. He punched in the address on the GPS and went to start the engine, but then his stomach gave out a little.

_What if he doesn't want to see me at this work place? What if he's not out?_

_He came to a gay event in his work clothes, Dave, _his brain was keen to remind him.

_That doesn't mean anything._

_You're scared._

_Of course I'm scared!_

_Why not call Kurt or Blaine?_

_I…I don't want them to get their hopes up._

_Just go. You can always pretend he did a great job on your transmission or something._

_Yeah, yeah-I, I think I can remember that._

Dave's hands began shaking until he gripped onto the steering wheel for support. The engine roared to life and he began a drive to Steven's auto shop.


	35. I Came, I Saw, I Stephened

Dave parked alongside the shop and had to raise up his courage to get out of the car. He found he had a lump in his throat and had to steady himself for a moment because of vertigo. He couldn't imagine why he was so nervous and then he remembered. He hadn't been to an actual auto shop since that time he had prank called Kurt's dad. He had watched Burt then, calling from an ancient pay phone not far away. He had taken distinct pleasure in hurting Kurt's family then.

_But this is different. Now is different. Just take a deep breath like that one therapist on tv said. _Dave did as his brain commanded and he found that it helped.

The sound of screeching and sparks greeted him as he turned the corner into the open garage doors of the shop. The space itself was huge, Steven had been pretty modest about his achievements but the auto shop had to have been about half of the commercial space on the lot. Just below the screeching and sound of belt sanders and drills, Dave could hear Santana playing.

"Can we help you?"

A bald Mexican guy came over to Dave and Dave shook his hand. He shouted to be heard over the noise. "I'm looking for Steven."

"Steven? We've got two. You want the intern or the boss?"

The noise died down a little enough that Dave didn't have to shout. "Boss, I think."

"He expecting you?"

"No, no. He just did a really nice job no my transmission last week when I broke down and I thought I'd…"

The guy with Raymundo patched on his shirt, nodded. "Sure. Sounds like the boss. He's always doing nice shit like that. Well, you're lucky. Another hour and he would've left for Kicker's. His office is over that way, behind the parts and shelves and stuff!"

"Thanks, thanks so much."

"Anytime."

Dave tried to walk casually past the shelves of stuff and turn the corner to where Raymundo had pointed out the office, but he imagined that he was being watched by the staff. He turned back discreetly to the main floor, but found that he was only imagining it. Everybody was still working, engrossed in their own projects.

He could see Steven through open blinds sitting at his desk while his head looking down at invoices. He had a couple of desk lamps on and he may have been whistling low, but Dave couldn't hear what. He was just as handsome as Dave remembered him but Kaz had made him question just how handsome he thought he was. Steven wasn't exactly his age or anything.

Dave screwed up his courage and knocked on the side of Steven's open door.

"Come in," Steven said without looking up.

"Oh, I…you look busy," Dave replied as he stood at the doorway awkwardly.

Dave looked up and flashed a warm smile. "Never too busy for a friend. Come on in and pull up a chair. Promise I won't bite," Steven stated with a wink, motioning for Dave to sit in a green chair near the desk.

Dave entered the room, but sat stiffly on the chair. He found himself looking everywhere but at Steven. "I, umm…wantedtothankyoufortheroses."

"You wanted to…thank me for the roses," Steven blinked. "You came all the way out to my shop to say thanks. Even though we've only had one lunch date after that whole yacht mixer thing."

Dave found a poster of Chip Foose on the wall very interesting at that moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I mean, you're the first person to send me roses."

"You are the most adorable guy in the world, you know that right? Most guys would just send a text or something."

"I…"

Steven got up from his chair, ambling over to where Dave was looking. He grabbed for a nearby cord and started twisting it to close his blinds. "Like the picture?"

"Yeah. Just trying to figure out who it is."

"Chip Foose. Built an auto empire, kinda jealous of him actually. Gives me something to strive for, but I'm not sure I can match up. Guy's wicked good with colored pencils too, does models of all his custom jobs. Can't draw a car that looks like anything but a square marshmallow."

Dave's gaze followed Steven as he walked around the room to get the other set of blinds. "So he's like your hero?"

Steven nodded. "Hero. Business model. Take your pick. So…" Steven shut the door behind him and walked over to where Dave was perched and put his hands on his hips. His crotch wasn't very far from Dave's mouth and Dave's brain seemed to be shorting out as this happened. "you wanted to thank me for the roses?" Steven arched an eyebrow suggestively.

_Didn't I just tell Kaz that shit like this DIDN'T HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE? OH MY GOD, AM I GOING TO HAVE SEX IN A MECHANIC SHOP?!_

And then Steven started to chuckle heartily and moved away just slightly, leaning against his desk. "Oh, your expression…is just so…priceless."

"But…I…but…you," Dave sputtered.

Steven shook his head, continuing to chuckle. "I just had to check and see. Buck up, Davey. It's not like you'd be the first guy to come to my office looking for a good time."

"Your crew's okay with that?!"

"Please," Steven crossed his arms comfortably, "this is the West Coast. Half those guys would watch."

"I…."

"But if you're not down with that, it's okay. So, you really just came here to thank me for the roses?"

Dave found himself sinking into the chair. "Well, now that you mention it, it does seem silly to not have called first."

"It's no big. So Dave, what are you up to tonight? I'm headed to line dancing at Kickers and then out bowling with the crew. You wanna tag along?"

"Line dancing?"

"Gay line dancing," Steven corrected with a smile.

Dave was trying hard not to think of reaching over to Steven's leg and letting his hand slide up to the man's crotch. It was right there and after all he had just said…. "There's such a thing as gay line dancing?" Dave licked his lips.

"You must be pretty new to San Diego. Kicker's the only place manlier gay guys got left since the old Timber Shack got taken down. I mean, there's the diner and Michael's but nobody hangs out at Michael's anymore and the Eagle is just way too leather for me."

"And it's okay if I come along?"

"Sure. Why not? It's just us boys boozing it up."

Dave shrugged. "I guess. It's just that I took Kaz's car and I don't know my way around Hillcrest that well. I mean, I assume its at Hillcrest."

"Correct, sir! We're not too far, though. We'll swing around and pick it up later. Kaz was the guy at the Halloween thing, right?"

"Yeah."

"So you two…"

"Let's talk about something else."

"Like why you're looking at my legs, so much?"

"Ummm…"

Steven swooped down on Dave and planted a long kiss on his lips. Dave made a noise in his throat. Steven's breath had a lovely mix of coffee and Marlboro to it that made Dave's brain reel. It was as though a giant sign was hanging over Steven's head that said "manlier than hell".

Dave came up for air eventually, but not until after Steven's hand had braced the back of his neck, causing him to shiver. Dave gulped as he took in air around him.

"Still not interested in some office shenanigans?"

"Not brave enough yet," Dave answered honestly. "But that kiss…"

Steven smirked. "I've had a bit of practice. You're not half bad yourself either."


	36. I Came, I Saw, I Stephened Part 2

"I thought we were going to Kicker's," Dave said as he looked from the car at the outside of the bar.

"We are," Steven assured him as he parked, "Mo's Universe becomes Kicker's on Thursdays and Saturday nights. The rodeo association takes it over and it goes all sorts of country."

"Huh," Dave said as he followed Steven to a side door, "and the other guys meet you here before bowling?"

"Nah, just for bowling at the Three Sisters. It's a weekly charity thing. After work, they all go out for Mexican. And I gotta be honest, I can't stand Mexican food all that much. At least not as much as them."

"That's because you've never had good Mexican food. Just that crap they serve at restaurants," stated the bouncer.

"Well, when's the wife gonna invite me over Alphy?"

"Alphy? Name's Alphonse. Can you believe this guy? Don't make me kick you out tonight." The bodyguard gave a huge smile, which intensified Dave's focus on the piercing on either side of his lips. He wore a black baseball cap and an oversize red tee shirt. He and Steven hugged like old friends.

"Hey Alphy, this is Dave. New guy. He's with me."

"Ooh, fresh meat. The boys'll love you."

"Ummm…thanks," Dave stated while handing over his id.

"Okay, now get in there you crazy kids."

"I'll give you crazy kids," Steven called out as he and Dave entered Mos.

"Yeah, you just try it old man," Alphonse teased right back.

The main bar was doing pretty good business and Dave could barely hear himself, trusting Steven to lead him. Steven wound his way to a side bar off the dance floor. There was guy with a microphone leading several people slowly through a line dance.

_Thank God they have instructional stuff_, Dave thought.

"What you want? Rum and coke or a Bud Light?" Steven asked, breaking into Dave's train of thought.

"Ummm…I'm…Rum and coke sounds good, actually."

"Good man. Two rum and cokes, a long island iced tea, and we'll do a sampler with the sliders. Usually spot, thanks Adam."

"Can do." Adam's gaze focused on Dave and then gave a sly grin. "Hey, you were at DJ Danni's mixer, right?"

"Oh yeah, you were bartending that night," Dave nodded as he remembered the guy with the broken nose. "Name's Dave. I've been wondering how you broke your nose. Looks like a football injury."

Adam gave Dave a nod. "Not quite a football injury. I play for the gay rugby team in town. We just finished our championship game and some tool from Vegas tried to clock me. Just made it out by the skin of my nose. You play rugby?"

"Did some football in high school, rugby might be interesting."

Adam pointed to Steven while he was wiping down the counter. "Talk to this guy. I've given him all the info but I think you can find us through the sdrugby website. Don't quote me on that though."

"Hey! I'm not a bad guy. I've just got a business to run. Besides, you really want a dirty old bastard like me running around a locker room with twenty rugby studs?"

Adam snorted. "Not like we haven't had that happen before. Your order's in. I'll bring your drinks over shortly. Have a good night, Steven…and Dave, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Dave." _Handsome. And plays rugby_. Dave nodded and then turned to follow Steven again the short distance to his usual table. "I should probably take these lessons."

"Nah. Not on your first night. Scott and Lee do the opener twice a week, every week. You're in no hurry. I however am starving. You eaten here before?"

Dave shook his head. "Never thought I'd get around to coming in. After the way people treated Kaz…"

"Kaz made his bed. And hey, that was mostly the twinks and stuff. He never really snagged any of us gruffer guys. Definitely not floating my boat. Oh hey, you ever shadow danced before?"

The drinks arrived and Dave took a swig of his rum and coke. "I…no." There was a phone number on the bottom of one of his napkins with Adam's name on it.

"Well, I'll teach you how tonight, okay? And maybe introduce you around, if you like? Can't hurt to meet a few people."

"Probably won't remember anyone's name though. So what is on this sampler platter?" He tucked the napkin with Adam's phone number into his pocket, sure that he was purely going to call him later just about the rugby thing. And that was all. Maybe. After all, he was kind of dating...was he dating Steven? Seemed like tonight he was.

"Oh man. They do a great pork slider with slaw here. And I'm a sucker for a chicken tender and onion ring. I love supporting this place since the new owners moved in. They're really good to our kind, it would've been so easy to just do techno but they let us keep our usual nights. And there's Brian. Hey Brian!"

Dave met a lot of people in Steven's social circle that night and figured he'd have to come back a few times before he got everyone's name down. There were so many more people here than there had been at Scandals but it seemed more like a gay family than Scandals had been. And Steven was great to Dave, leading him around as needed and acting like a guide instead of someone trying to initiate an intimidated new gay guy into the scene.

If Dave had had any doubts about whether or not they were on a date, Steven would have erased them during the shadow dance. The shadow dance was the hottest thing you could do at Kickers as far as Dave was concerned. A partner against your back, bodies so close that he was your shadow and the way that Steven held him. He had trouble remembering that he needed to pick up Kaz's car at some point and that Kaz would probably be pissed but Steven's breath was on his neck and well, Dave never tired of Steven's compliments.

By the time they were on the way to hit the bowling alley, Dave wasn't quite focused on socializing anymore. The combination of dancing with Steven, the alcohol, and awesome bar food was making Dave's horny levels sit up and bark. Dave found that when Steven reached to shift, he was shifting a little harder than he needed to and it was…Dave felt…distracted. And Steven was noticing.

"So, uh, I know you wanted to go bowling and all..."

"I can ditch it if you have other thoughts. Good ones."

"I…uh..," Steven shifted gears with his very manly hands and Dave lost his train of thought, "sorry, having a bit of trouble focusing."

"Yeah? What're you focusing on?"

Steven shifted another gear as they went down the road and Dave found his grip sliding over Steven's hand. "The way you shift gears."

"My place or yours?"


	37. Different Directions

"Good morning," Steven yawned as he turned the page on his paper. He was comfy in his bunny slippers and striped terry cloth robe.

"Yeah, what you said," Dave replied as he entered in his jeans, with boxer briefs peeking over the top. "What time is it?"

"About eight. You got somewhere to be?"

Dave thought for a moment. "No. Today's a day off until the charity show. Then I won't get a day off til I leave for the wedding."

Steven put down his newspaper and stirred a large bowl of what looked like thin oatmeal. "Mmm. Love a good wedding. Who's getting married?"

Dave pointed to the kitchen and Steven nodded. They talked through the café doors between the kitchen and dining room. The café doors were the same color as the table, a lovely light shade of pine with a lacquered finish. "An old teacher from high school all the way back in Ohio. Didn't I tell you about this? And where are your coffee cups?"

"Second cabinet on the left. You did mention a trip in early December. You sure you really wanna drive that late in the year? The roads to Texas are hell, can't imagine wanting to go back to Ohio. Oh yeah, help yourself to the big pot of grits."

"Smells good. Is that like oatmeal? Never mind, guess I'll found out. And bowls are…ah-hah. Right next to the cups." Dave rummaged around, backing out through the café doors with a bowl of grits and a mug of coffee soon enough. The mug had a faded print of an elephant wearing a cowboy hat. "And I can drive on black ice, its not a big deal. The weather report's pretty nice for this late in the year, actually. Route's a pretty straight shot until we hit the interstate tolls outside of Fort Wayne."

Steven blinked as Dave took a spoon and dipped it into the bowl of grits. "What?"

"No, no, no. You don't eat grits like that, you yankee."

"You said it was like oatmeal."

Steven shook his head and then got up, heading for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and plucked out a clear yogurt cup of diced peaches. He tossed it at Dave, who caught it easily. "Mix that in. The grits'll warm up the peaches nice and the grits themselves don't have much of a flavor without it. They don't have grits in Ohio?"

Dave did as he was told, taking a bite after and shrugging. "Pretty good. And no, no grits. Just lots of oatmeal and, for some weird reason, German and Hungarian food."

Steven made a face. "God bless growing up in Houston."

"What's Houston like? Someone told me once it was a great place to be gay. Big underground scene there."

Steven nodded. "Yeah. But it's full of all pretty boys like your roommate. Sorry, but it's true."

Dave flinched at how Steven described Kaz. "I know. I flinch because I don't want it to be what it is but Kaz is…well, he is pretty."

"He must have something about him you like or you wouldn't have stayed roommates. Even in this economy…"

Dave took another bite as he thought. "Kaz needs me, he admitted as much once. I hope, I hope I'm just doing good."

"Well, that's all well and dandy, but what about you? I mean, you've got some great shit going on from the sound of it. For someone whose not working much, you seem to keep pretty busy."

"Oh God, yeah. I mean, between the hours at Trevor Project and working with Mel and gang on Little Shop and the hours I'm gonna get at Peets once I've finished training, it's pretty nice. I'm hoping I can hang in until next year and then head to college."

"For what?"

Dave sighed. "Well, I once told a good friend that I thought I'd work as a sportscaster or commentator or something. But that seems like ages ago. I don't, I don't know. I just know I don't wanna do this for forever."

"What?" Steven gave a little smirk. "You saying what we did last night wasn't fun?"

"Oh no. It was…very wonderful. I'm a little intrigued by the saddle at the edge of your bed, but I think that's a little advanced for me."

Steven chuckled, shaking his head. "God, kid, you are adorable. Why couldn't you be a little older?"

"You noticed that too, huh?"

"I didn't want to. I'm getting to an age where I'm ready to settle and you'd be a great match for me as far as I'm concerned, but you're headed the other direction. I'd like us to be friends and you're always welcome to come over and screw around and shit, but let's face the age gap, yeah? I mean, I'm old enough to be your dad almost."

"Coulda fooled me last night."

Steven gave out a hearty laugh. "God bless you, Dave Karofsky. It's no wonder Adam gave you his number."

"You saw that?"

"You are not that smooth."

"Shit! I'm..I'm…"

"Please don't be sorry. It's okay. It's just one of those degree of separation things. You'd like Adam. He's studying to be a lawyer at UCSD, but he doesn't flaunt how smart he is. Much."

"He's pretty hot too. Like you."

"Guilty as charged. So…what did Kaz say when you returned the car?"

Dave looked down at his half-finished bowl of grits. "He…he pretended to be playing Bioshock but I know better. I think, I think he was kinda mad about us."

"That's a little screwy. He does know you're looking around for a man, right?"

"I thought so. I mean, the mixer was his idea. To find me a wedding date, but he's gotten really weird about it."

"You think he's jealous?"

"I don't know. I mean, I think so. I accused him of it- you should have seen how he reacted to the flowers you sent. They were incredible, by the way. It was a first."

"You mentioned that," Steven replied warmly at Dave's blush. "Seems a shame. Sweet kid like you never getting flowers before."

"I wasn't always sweet."

"That's hard to believe. Unless football screwed your head on too tight."

Dave sighed. "I think it did."

They sat in silence for a moment. The Steven began speaking again. "Listen, Dave. I like you. I think you'd fit in my life as a good friend and occasional fuck buddy. I'd love that. But I'm concerned about your relationship with Kaz. I don't think he's in a good place."

Dave went to interject and Steven raised his hands. "No, let me finish. He's not gonna quit bein' jealous and I don't think that's gonna end well. I suggest you have a talk with him and no matter what, you shoot from the hip. And I'd like to offer you a front desk job at the shop to go along with what you got at Peets- at least until you like my shop better. We'll maneuver your hours around whatever else you got, but I can almost guarantee you I can pay you better than some coffee shop. You see this?"

Dave looked around. Even though Steven's house looked like every other two story on the block, he had made it a real home for himself. "I did this in ten years. Lots of gumption and a little bit of good luck. And I think you can have that too. But not with Kaz hanging about your neck. He's got his own growing to do. You think about that, okay?"

Dave nodded. "It's generous. More than I thought I'd ever deserve. And I know that Kaz and I are probably…well, not really suited for each other. I wanted to be. It was so nice in the beginning and he was the first guy since Kurt to, you know…"

"Make you go hard?"

"Yeah, that," Dave said with a wince, "but I see where you're coming from. I like Peets, though, because they wanna help pay for college if they like what they see in me."

"To do what? Be a manager there for the rest of your days? Nah, I think you can do better and I think I can offer you better. If college is your worry, I'll help you work it out. Hell, I'll let you set up an office in my spare room if need be to keep down costs. That's what Anthony did for his stepson Tim and it's still working out pretty well. They even raise a fleet of puppies on their little urban ranchero."

Dave sighed. "I want to, I really do. But with the wedding and the play coming up, I can't do anything soon."

Steven downed the rest of his cup of coffee. "You know, Dave, it's like my dad told me. Things always have a way of working themselves out. They really do. Take me up on my offer and then cut Peets lose once I give you inventory control. Cause trust me that will be a pretty heavy job. Give Adam a call. Maybe cut Kaz lose or just move out and stay friends. But, right now, I think it'll do more harm that good to be too static about any one thing."

"After the wedding. I just, after the wedding."

"Is Kaz your date?"

"I…I don't know. A part of me wants to take you. And then there's a part of me that just wants to go back on my own."

"What does your heart say?"

Dave looked everywhere but at Steven. "It says to give Kaz one last chance."

"You gonna tell him that?"

Dave shook his head. "I, I don't want him to know."

Steven nodded. "Good man. See? You've already got everything you need inside of you. Now what's say we get cleaned up and head out to the Farmer's Market downtown. I need a basket of onions and you have got to try these lavender cupcake things. Oh yeah! And I'll show you where the Ghirardelli shop is."

Dave scoffed. "Old man, don't you think I already know where the chocolate shop is? But that sounds, that sounds really cool."

"It's a plan then. Leave your dishes, hate to ruin the hot water on the shower."

"You got two showers here?"

Steven rose, moving over to Dave's side of table, leaning down to breathe in his ear. "Nope. But I've got a really nice shower big enough for two. Like that one on the Moen commercial. Interested in seeing it?"

Dave arched an eyebrow. "You had me at Moen commercial."


	38. Night and Day

The stench of bleach filled Dave's nostrils. His eyes opened and he found himself in the old Stone Eagle cafeteria. He was holding Uno cards, all four of the plus four reverses and one red skip card. Looking around, he noticed that everyone was looking at him, pointing and laughing. Everyone except for Peter and Skye. They were both simply shaking their heads.

The stench of bleach became worse, suffocating. It burned his eyes as they teared up. He could barely see Jenny, the sound coming from her mouth resembling a dolphin. Dave broke out in a sweat and felt as though he would be sick.

But he couldn't move. He looked down and found that Kaz was there, anchoring him to the ground.

"Please," he begged, "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"

Dave felt himself retch up jello before it actually happened. He felt it as it began exploding from his mouth, followed by a whole salmon and then a miniature ballerina troupe, which promptly shattered as though they were made of porcelain once they hit the floor. Taking a gulp of air, he thought he might be done.

But then the room began to spin. He looked up and found that a giant light bulb was beginning to slither down. It caused more burning, his entire body seared by the heat from the high intensity bulb.

"It's not my fault," he heard himself say. The world was turning dark, the words echoing and bouncing into nothingness. "I tried my best."

And then Kurt was there. Kurt sauntered out of the shadows, hands on his hip. He was holding a tray of cheese and crackers. "Your best? Really? That was the best you could do?"

"I…"

"Please. You never wanted me. You never tried."

"Now he's mine," said Blaine as he stepped out of another shadow across from Kurt. Blaine's mouth broke out into a smile, large and shark-like. His teeth were sharp and jagged, like an unholy set of fangs. Blaine advanced on Kurt.

"Kurt, watch out!"

"Oh will you stop trying to protect me," Kurt said with a sigh as he held his arm out. Blaine began to gnaw the arm off as Kurt began tapping his foot. "Honestly, how long is this going to take Blainey-poo? I have an audition for Hairspray in half an hour."

"It takes as long as it takes," came Blaine's raspy voice. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

"I suppose," Kurt retorted as a spray of blood slashed Dave's chest. The hot blood made Dave quiver and then he found that the blood itself was acid. His body was melting away from where Kurt's blood had touched him. Cement began pouring out from the wound.

"Now look what you've done," came a voice from above. The Cheshire cat orbited the light bulb, which had become bright and as big as Saturn. "Poor Dave. Stuck in cement. Maybe we should just call you mud."

"It wasn't my fault. I tried my best," Dave said with mounting panic. The cement was drying hard to his skin as it cascaded down.

"Help me," came Kaz's whimper from where Dave could no longer see his feet.

"It wasn't my fault. I tried my best," was all Dave could answer.

"It wasn't…."

Dave woke with a start, vaulting up to a sitting position in his bed in his and Kaz's apartment. His body was slick with sweat. He could smell the light scent of bleach and lemon from where Kaz had cleaned out the microwave and oven in anticipation of all the holiday cooking they'd be doing. He shook his head, finding that he was still human as his hands reached out and touched various parts of his arms, legs, and chest.

Dave fell back and felt the sting of tears. They felt different from the sheen of sweat. In his mind, he could still hear himself saying that it wasn't his fault and he tried his best.

He rose quietly from the bed after a few more minutes of being unable to get back to sleep. _Shit_, Dave thought, _it's too early for this_.

Dave found himself walking out to the terrace, looking over the railing into the reflection of the swimming pool. It had been here not even half a year ago that he had stood, talking to Kurt and Kaz had made French toast and the world had been so much simpler. But nothing was simple now.

Kaz was…something was happening to him. Something Dave didn't like, but couldn't name. The jealousy over his burgeoning friendship with Steven and Adam had caused Kaz to…Dave was having trouble putting his finger on it. But something was different. No. Something was wrong. But what? Was Kaz sabotaging his last chance without even knowing it?

_Am I being too lenient on him?_ Dave thought.

_It's the holidays_, his brain retorted. _You can't be too hard on him. You're all the poor guy has._

_And whose fault is that?_ Dave bit back, unable to shake the reality of how he had gotten here from his mind. What was worse is that Kaz was now causing Dave to fight with himself, to lose sight of his instinct. If he wasn't careful, Kaz could permanently damage all the good Dave had been finding himself doing recently. That was not something Dave liked.

_I need, I need help_, Dave heard from inside his head. It was a voice that sounded like him but wasn't him at all. His conscience?

_What does it matter?_ His brain replied.

Dave nodded to himself, pulling his phone from his pants. He was glad he had forgotten to leave it on the charger again because he wasn't sure that he'd be able to do this if he'd had to go searching for it.

Leafing through his contacts, Dave furrowed his brow and sighed. Three am. Who would be up at three am?

He didn't want to call Kurt. It would be midnight where he was. Plus, the whole history of their screwed-up relationship made him think that perhaps Kurt wasn't the best to get advice from.

Howe? Howe would be a better option. But he would be super biased.

Mercedes was on the same coast, so she was out. At least, he hoped she was getting her beauty rest. He hoped that nobody else was up worrying like him.

He leafed through the contacts three times until his highlighter ended on Blaine's name.

Blaine. Dave bit down on his lip and pressed the dial button. _Well_, he thought, _if I leave a message, he'll just call me back._

"Hello?"

"I'm…you're awake."

"Yeah."

"Wow, and you sound like I feel."

"Oh good. So I'm not the only one having a sucky Thanksgiving," Blaine grunted.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I'm at the gym. Found it's the best way to get out my aggression."

"Aggression? Everything okay? You and Kurt?"

"Oh, we're fine. It's just the holidays bring out the worst in my parents. They won't invite Kurt over even though he's been super busy in New York and Cooper is holed up in Bermuda shooting a pilot for some crime thriller CSI thing."

"I'm so sorry man."

"Yeah. I should be setting the Tivo for the parade but I don't think I'll be doing that this year. I'll probably just hide out in the gym."

"Yeah, I repeat the earlier sorry comment."

"You do what you have to. So what's up with you?"

"I'm….relationship stuff."

"Ah. Wanna talk about it?"

"Won't I ruin your rep count?"

"Nah. I just finished the speed bag. Here, I'm sitting. Please, go ahead."

"Dude, are you sure?"

"I'd tell you if I wasn't".

Dave sighed. "Okay, so Kaz right? It was his idea to go to this mixer to find me a wedding date. And I met this guy, right? Steven. He's a little older than me but we had a couple of really good dates and he introduced me to Adam and now I'm kind of dating Adam with a little action from Steven on the side and Kaz has gone, well, not that's not it exactly. Everything's still the same but something is different. And Steven offered me a job and I'm afraid to tell Kaz that I've taken it and now I'm all flipped out because I just had this nightmare and…"

"Okay, okay. Just breathe. I'm here for ya. First off, how much older is Steven?"

"Late thirties…"

"Nice."

"But we're just friends now that happen to hook up a little but it's nothing serious and I'm kind of with Adam- who plays rugby magnificently by the way. I think I'll probably join the team for the next season. Everything is screwed up."

"What's screwed up?"

"I don't know! That's my whole issue! I feel like I've missed something- something big! And it happened right under my nose and I should be happy to be coming home to see Kurt and Dad and you and I'm just- I'm freaked out!"

"Kurt told me you thought you'd be bringing Kaz to Mr. Schue's wedding."

"I thought so too. Now I don't know."

"Well, what do you want?"

"For things to not be so confusing? I keep telling Steven I'm going to put it off until after I get back from the wedding but…"

"Has Kaz assaulted you or anything?"

"No. If anything, he's creepy polite. Like that movie about the Body snatchers. What was it called? Invasion of the Body Snatchers? He's on this weird auto pilot thing."

"Wow. I'm sorry Dave. That sounds…that sounds awful. Can you go somewhere else until you figure things out?"

Dave crossed his free arm across the chest. "Thing is, I feel bad for the guy. I feel like if I move out to go to Steven's, who has offered me a free room to make into an office/den/bedroom thing for college, Kaz might have a meltdown or something. And it's a little scary cause we were gonna drive out to the wedding."

"We probably both agree that doesn't sound like a good idea."

"I don't know about that either! I think going to the wedding is the only thing he's got right now. I just…you ever have that feeling in your gut?"

"All the time. Mostly around my dad. Dave, it doesn't sound safe there, man. Maybe you should hang out at Steven's until this whole thing blows over."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then you can dodge that bullet when you get over that bridge, or however the metaphor goes."

"I wish it were…I've gotta go."

"Dave?"

Dave turned around to find Kaz coming through the door with shopping bags and a massive grin spread across his face. He slipped his phone in his pocket. He could hear it vibrating as Blaine redialed him. But he didn't want to answer. No, he wanted to answer but he knew better. He walked back through the patio door to find Kaz setting up groceries in the kitchen and rattling around, whistling a tune to himself.

"Ummm…Kaz?"

"Good, you're awake! Turn on the parade! I think we can find it on satellite so we can watch it live! My God, I do love the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade!"

"It's three thirty in the morning."

"All the more reason to get started on the turkey now!" To prove his point, Kaz pulled a twelve pound bird from its own bag and lifted it high like a champion.

"Why did you buy that? Suzy invited us over to dinner and all we're bringing is sweet potatoes."

"I thought we could have our own dinner here too!"

"Because…."

"Because it's fun! Because it's the holidays!"

"Okay," Dave walked around the partition and entered the kitchen space. He opened his hands in a defensive position as he approached Kaz. "Why don't we discuss this in a couple of hours when we've gotten a bit more sleep."

"Can't sleep! Gotta start the turkey! And I even bought little pumpkins to make a pie!"

Dave grabbed for the turkey, easily taking it out of Kaz's grasp and placing it in the sink. He then grabbed Kaz's hands and pulled the other man close. He forced Kaz to look him in the eyes. "Kaz, you're acting a little crazy dude, like you ate some expired Halloween candy. Let's get you back to bed, okay? We can talk about this later in the morning. At a sensible hour."

"But…the…turkey?"

"The turkey will be fine. It has to thaw anyways."

"No, it doesn't! I have a recipe! My old Nana Terry gave it to me! Ooh, did I tell you I almost bought a deep fryer?! Have you ever had deep fried turkey?!"

"Yeah. It's great." Dave used his grip to pull Kaz out of the kitchen and toward his bedroom.

He started to shove Kaz in and then found that Kaz was trying to pull him in as well. "Let go!"

"Come on, Davey. Let's have some fun while the turkey thaws."

"Stop it. What's wrong with you?!"

"What." Kaz stated, his voice raising slightly. "I'm not good enough for you now?"

"I didn't say that. What's going on?!"

"Oh nothing. It's fine. Whatever. You go on today. I'm just…I'm just gonna stay in my room and play Bioshock." Quick as a flash, Kaz was behind his doorframe and the door was slammed in Dave's face, almost taking out Dave's nose.

"What? You've been playing that game nonstop for a week and a half! Talk to me!"

"Go away. I don't want to talk to you right now. I'm tired. Leave me alone!"

"Kaz!"

There was no answer.

Dave knocked at the door to Kaz's bedroom. "Kazmian Veiste, open this door!"

Another round of not answering.

Dave's phone was buzzing full tilt and he walked away from Kaz's door shaking his head. He opened his phone, now wide awake and freaked out. He texted Blaine, not trusting his voice at the moment.

**Dave**: Sorry about that. Kaz came in with groceries. I think…I think he's gone crazy.

**Dave**: Gonna talk to Steven today about moving in.

**Dave**: Enjoy the rest of your workout.

**Dave**: And happy thanksgiving!

**Blaine**: At least you're safe

**Blaine**: Keep me or Kurt updated.

**Blaine**: Is it okay to tell him we've talked or is this secret stuff?

**Dave**: *shrug*

**Dave**: He'll find out one way or the other.

**Dave**: You're pretty much the same person now, right? =p

**Blaine**: Ha ha

**Blaine**: I've been accused of worse

**Blaine**: You gonna try and get some shut eye?

**Dave**: Too wound up

**Dave**: Afraid of more nighmares

**Dave**: I'll try infomercials, that usually helps

**Blaine**: K

**Blaine**: I'm here for you, dude

**Dave**: Thanks

**Dave**: Kurt and you are so lucky, you know that?

**Blaine**: I know

**Blaine**: I'm nodding about it as we speak

**Blaine**: And Happy Thanksgiving to you

**Blaine**: Dave Karofsky

Dave shut his phone and exhaled a large burst of air. Life was getting way too complicated. He turned on the television to a low volume and channel surfed through the Ready, Set, Go machine; Montel Williams and his amazing Ninja blender, the knife set that could cut a penny, and then he landed on CNN.

And his heart stopped.


	39. This is DaveNN

**Mass text (Suzy):** When you wake up, please confirm who has what allergies and who is vegetarian. Thanks and I'll see you at two!

"Hello?"

"Suzy-you're awake. Are you watching tv?"

"Dave? Ummm….no. I'm putting the turkey in. Why?"

"Turn on your tv to cnn. Now!"

"Oh-kay….right after I finish chopping this onion. Not that you're not my favorite person or anything but what is going on?"

"It's….I….look, you know how Howe and Charlie met me in New Orleans but I'm not from Louisiana?"

"…Yeah, kinda," Suzy said hesitantly.

"Well, the reason why I got to New Orleans is on cnn right now. Burning."

"What? Okay, let me just wash my hands and I'll turn on my little kitchen set here. While I have you on the phone, you or Kaz allergies and or vegetarian/vegan?"

"Ummm…neither, though I could do without beets. Not an allergy, just picky. Oh, and Kaz probably isn't coming."

"Why? Not feeling good?"

"He's ummm….he's taking a mental health day."

"Well," Dave could hear the sound of the oven door opening and something being slid in as Suzy continued to talk, her voice rising and falling as though she were on speaker phone, "people do tend to get depressed around the holidays. Guess I can't blame him."

"It's more complicated than that. Truth be told, I'm kinda glad he's not coming."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"More like trouble in neverdise. Oh God, I'm sorry. This is supposed to be a good day and here I am dumping on you before 4 am."

"No, please. Dump away. I'm honored….oh Dave."

"What?!"

"I just tuned to cnn. Is that your high school?!"

"It's what's left of Stone Eagle Academy in Georgia. It's not a high school as much as it's a reparative therapy place for Christians."

"You went to high school there?"

"I was there about a month. It was my mother's idea. I was outed and attempted suicide and well, shit got real as the kids say."

"Oh Dave. Are you alright?"

"I'm more worried about who might have been in the building. I wish they'd have updates!"

"Well, Anderson Cooper is on in the next half hour. He's pretty thorough about that sort of thing. Did you see the interview he did with that woman who represented the Kansas church?"

"I probably missed that one. Suzy, there were some good kids there." Dave thought of Iman, Tanto, Coltrane, and Skye in horror.

"Would you like us to pray for them? I have Sally Rose coming over early to help with stuffing and she's got a hotline to the man upstairs."

"Ummm…sure. I just, there was this kid I knew there. We called him Skye. He got me in with his group, I was the fifth guy… I'm worried. And the janitor that got me out, God, he was…I'm not sure he'd be able to outrun a fire. I….wait a minute. Something's happening."

Dave listened intently to the update on the report and then he heard the sound of Suzy dropping something.

"You okay Suzy?"

"I didn't hear that correctly. Tell me I didn't hear that correctly."

"Yeah."

"Did you?"

"No. They got me out because of that. I was the next one on the list."

"Why would your mom send you there? Oh, sorry. She's your mother, I shouldn't speak ill.."

"No. She sent me there to get me cured, get me back to normal, whatever that means." Dave made a face when he remembered the scene at the dinner table that night he had agreed to go. It was a scene he saw in nightmares once too often.

"And your dad agreed?"

"He was just trying to keep the peace. It's something we share."

"Oh Dave. This is terrible."

"You still want me to make sweet potatoes? I, I don't mind."

"You could come over if you feel like it, help us make stuffing. You can bring the sweet potatoes and make it here. I'll set out some tea and hot cocoa for us. I'd hate to think of you glued to that tv set all morning."

"Can't help it."

"I know. Can I have Sally swing by and pick you up?"

"That's a good idea. Especially with Kaz doing his Elizabeth Taylor "Send in the Clowns" impression today."

Suzy was silent for a second. "You have no idea what that means, do you?"

"It sounded good? It was something I overheard Mel say to her daughters once and I thought it applied."

"I hope not. Wouldn't want your day totally ruined."

"I'm having turkey with some of my family today, Suzy. Nothing could totally ruin my day, I hope."

"Here's to wishful thinking. You need to talk about anything else?"

"Nah. I'll just, I'll just get the ingredients together okay? And try to figure out what's next."

"Sounds like a plan. I'm gonna text Sally right now."

"Thanks Suzy. It's much appreciated."

"Don't say that until you see how many dishes I have to wash."

Dave closed his phone and huddled closer to the tv. Skye, were you in there? Iman? Jenny? The old man who had saved him? Had he lost friends to a Thanksgiving fire? It was a moment like this that Dave wished he could pray like his mom did. She might have been crazy, but there was one thing she had- and that was a belief in answered prayers.

Dave gulped, rising from where he was and making his way to the kitchen to gather ingredients quietly. His eyes never left the television. _Please God, don't let anyone have died. Please God._


	40. Thanksgiving With Suzy

"We should all say something we're thankful for," Sally stated as she passed around the umpteenth basket of crescent rolls she had brought.

"I, for one, am thankful that I auditioned for Godspell. It was my first amateur production and it was amazing."

"You're kidding," Lori said as she scooped some mashed potatoes on her son's small blue plate. "That was pretty good stuff for the first time."

"I'm not as thankful that you broke your leg though," Andrea stated quietly. She and Hunter sat next to each other, nearly identical with long flowing hair. She had coke bottle glasses and wore a set of earrings that Hunter had made especially for the occasion. He wore toe socks that he had fashioned into gloves. The socks had frogs on them.

"I bet Dave's thankful for that," Nando teased.

Dave made a noise in the back of his throat. "Oh my God, I never wanna go through the trauma of having to fill your shoes again, Hunter."

"You did a great job," Hunter insisted.

"Still, I'm grateful, but I need some time to think about what I'm thankful for."

"What about my aunt Greta's cornbread casserole recipe? It's pretty fantastic," Steven said as he snuck a spoonful, earning him a withering look from the hostess.

"I've got one," Nando said. "I'm thankful that my new baby boy came out happy and healthy. All ten fingers and all ten toes," most of the people finished the chant and then broke out into laughter.

Steven turned to Dave and Dave turned to Adam. Adam merely shrugged and Dave turned back to Steven. "Inside joke?"

"Well, I am thankful that I'm not working today," Adam raised a glass to the hostess. "This is my first real Thanksgiving off since my aunt and uncle's divorce. Now if only somebody would throw a plate of mashed potatoes at the wall I would feel right at home."

"Oops, look like little Jerry's only too happy to oblige. Sorry about that Suzy," Lori stated as she got up to get a fleet of paper towels from the kitchen.

"Don't worry. That's what the kid's corner is for," Suzy stated as she pointed that way. Lori and Nando's kids were all over coloring and eating and trying to generally be little adults. At least, that was the plan in the clothes they had been brought in. Little ties and little vests and pretty little dresses.

"How about you?" Steven asked Dave.

"Ummm…I'm thankful I'm not at the kids corner?" Dave said and that got a little chuckle from everyone.

"No, but seriously," Dave continued. "I guess I'm thankful for skype."

"You'd better be," came a voice from one of Suzy's cabinet shelves, where a computer monitor had been placed, "you're breaking into our very busy schedule of doing nothing today."

"Why are you two so against this holiday anyways?" Lori asked.

"Call it a radical streak. It's our little rebellion without a cause."

"Well, regardless, I'm glad we bullied you into it. You're important to me."

"To us all," Suzy added. She raised a glass to Howe and Charlie, who in turn raised their turkey sandwiches in toast.

"Let's see….I guess I'm thankful for the mushy stuff that nobody ever wants to talk about. This time last year I was still in the closet, living in Ohio, and I was pretty miserable. I'd never set foot on a stage, let alone been in a play. I didn't know how wonderful the Dynamic Duo over there were…"

"Which one's Batman and which one's Robin?" Howe spoke up.

"You'll have to fight about it. That'll keep you occupied for a few days," Dave teased.

"You don't have the hair for Batman," Charlie added.

"Shut it, Robin," Howe exclaimed.

"Anyways," Steven interjected, "you were on a roll, kid. Go for it."

"Right. Where was I? I'm thankful that I ended up in San Diego. I'm thankful that I can do stuff for volunteer work and I'm thankful that sweet potatoes were on sale. In short, I'm thankful for this bounty. It means, you mean, so much to me. All of you. I wish I could take you all with me to the wedding so you could meet some of my friends from high school and we could all boogie the night away together."

"He won't be happy til we're all crying, will he?" Charlie asked.

"And there goes the moment," Hunter stated as he rolled his eyes.

"The moment's not gone, just…expanded," Nando added.

"Can we be done being thankful before this stuff gets cold? I've been eyeing that wing for about ten minutes," Adam spoke up.

"Good deal," Suzy said. "Let's eat. Friends and family, my table is your table. Sparkling cider for all!"

Glasses clinked and Hunter's glass and Steven's glass clinked against Dave's. He took a sip of sparkling cider and smiled. It was a bittersweet day for sure, but he allowed himself in that moment to be more than grateful and to wish so many people a Happy Thanksgiving: Skye, Kurt, that old man from Stone Eagle, Blaine, Mercedes, his dad, even Kaz.

The dining room descended into controlled madness as the group ate, drank, and made merry. Dave could hear his phone in his back pocket vibrating and thought that he should answer soon, but not before the meal was done. And no meal was complete without pie.

He stepped outside to Suzy's version of smoker's row and sat on her front steps. He had several calls, which he thought was strange. The first one was from Mr. Plender, telling him that he could call him at the Trevor Project as he was there all day. Dave furrowed his brow. What was Mr. Plender doing at work? He made a mental note to call him back first.

The second was from an unknown number. He heard Burt Hummel's voice play in the message. "Hey David, your dad just wanted me to let you know that he got your message through Kurt and he was happy to hear from you. We all wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and we're all pretty excited about seeing you at the wedding. Your dad didn't know if you really wanted to hear from him, but he wants you to know that you mean a lot to him and he's sorry for what happened. He loves you very much. You're very loved, David, and I hope you'll come and see him while you're here in Lima."

The message took David's breath away. After all this time, his dad still thought he didn't want to talk to him? It occurred to Dave that the issue was probably that they were speaking through Kurt to each other. Dave wished there was a way to contact his dad that didn't involve accidentally talking to him mom. He wished he could let dad know that, no matter what, the love was returned. That he meant a lot to Dave.

Dave took a moment to check his text messages before resuming voicemails. One from Kurt, a second from Blaine, one from Mercedes, and then a wrong number text.

The last three messages on his voicemail were all from Kaz.

_You left pretty early. You're missing the parade!_

_You left without me. Seriously?!_

_How could you treat me this way and leave me alone on Thanksgiving?! No. You know what?! Screw you too then! Yeah I was acting crazy but that doesn't compare…._

Dave turned the phone from his ear and sighed.

The door creaked open and Steven walked out. He took a moment to observe Dave's face and then took out a cigarette hesitantly. "Am I interrupting something? I can do a smoke break later. Our game of Pictionary's getting kinda intense."

"No, you're fine. It's just Kaz trouble."

"Kaz trouble? Dave…"

Dave shook his head and sighed. "Three messages, all accusing me of acting ungrateful. I told you what he was like this morning."

"My offer still stands."

"I don't have much, Steven. I'm just afraid I'll go back to get it and it'll have ended up in the swimming pool."

"Better that than swimming with a rabbit in a stew pot."

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, I can be your escort for your way home, make sure nothing happens. Keep you safe and all that."

"You sure you want to get in the middle of this?"

Steven knelt down as he lit his cigarette. He took a drag and looked at Dave with kind eyes. "Kaz has lost a screw. And I ain't letting him hurt you. You understand?"

"We…we shouldn't do anything rash."

"You're giving him too many chances. He shouldn't be able to ruin this holiday for you. You meant what you said in there."

"I wish I coulda said it better."

"You said it fine."

"I'm glad Suzy agreed to let Adam come."

"You two are getting on pretty well."

Dave nodded. "You were right. Every date we've had has been…I don't know. I don't think I've enjoyed go-karts and gelato quite like this. You're in danger of losing your…how did you put it? Boot knockin' privileges?"

"So you guy's have done the deed then?"

"We've…

"We've kissed. We're taking it slow," Adam smirked as he exited the house to smoker's row and sat down comfortably between Dave and Steven. "Sorry, private conversation?"

"Not really. Just checking phone messages. One thing led to another."

"What did he do now?"

"He's pulling a Delta Burke, Adam."

Adam shook his head and then knocked his shoulder against Dave's shoulder affectionately. "Wish it hadn't happened like this, Dave. But I'm glad it has, kinda. I'm glad you started coming to Kicker's. Glad the mixer wasn't the last time I saw you."

"I'm glad you can get some time off to dance with me."

"I'd do it anyways. I just work on the side bar part time," Adam shrugged. "Besides, I'm too good looking to fire. Like Mike."

" Oh yeah," Dave thought about Mike, "that's the…the guy with the yellow motorcycle." And then he turned serious for a moment, letting himself rest against Adam's side. "You two mean a lot to me," Dave said as he let himself be overwhelmed by good feelings. He felt Kaz's stranglehold lessening. He had Adam and Steven now. He'd find a way to make it through this okay. They all would. Even Kaz, god willing.

They stayed that way, talking and relaxing while Steven smoked, the sound of friendly competition floating out from the house. The days were finally turning cool enough to wear a jacket and Dave found himself wanting to go inside for coffee. He thought he should probably call Mr. Plender before that happened though.

Steven and Adam went back inside to start coffee and Dave dialed the Trevor Project line to his boss.

"Ross speaking. Thank you for calling the Trevor Project."

"Hey Mr. Plender, it's Dave. Shouldn't you be at home?"

"Depression and suicide lines don't take a break from the holidays. Sides, the wife dropped off a plate and we took a few minutes to eat together. She actually insisted I not be underfoot, said I created too many dishes." Mr. Plender let out a hearty laugh. "How can I help you Dave?"

"Just returning your call, sir. I guess you got my message."

"Yeah. Helluva thing. Wife filled me in while we ate."

"Agreed. I just thought you'd want the heads up."

"You're a good kid, Dave. But you worry too much. You're not gonna tarnish the reputation of the Trevor Project by talking about your experiences at Stone Eagle. You have my blessing. Just use less expletives when you talk to Larry King."

"Ah. I wondered when we were gonna get around to that."

"So you went off-script. I told you, it was fine. In fact, it's more than fine. I was gonna wait….you know what, I'll wait til you get back from your friend's wedding."

"You can tell me now. I'm just avoiding a Pictionary tournament at the moment. Is it good or is it a thing like I'm never allowed to be the face of the Trevor Project again?"

"Take a guess. On second thought, don't. You probably think it's the latter."

"Well, you hadn't brought it up except for the meeting and it was pretty general, so I thought…"

"No! That's not it. Oh shoot, well, I was going to wait but you pulled it out of me. HQ loved what you did kid. It was real and that principal practically glowed when he talked about you. I've got orders to make this part of your regular routine."

"They want to do what now?!"

"It's not much and there's still no pay, but you get a stipend for travel and you'll start here in California locally and then probably work your way out through California and Nevada."

"Doing what?"

"Telling your story. To the bullies, to the bullied. Dave, you have no idea what you did that day, do you?"

"I was just…honest. Are they sure they've got the right guy?"

"If they weren't, I am. I told ya when I hired ya kid. This is great for you too from an education aspect. Speakers with the Trevor Project get college credit and your scholarship stuff will be out of this world when you get around to going to school! It's a dream come true!"

"A dream come true."

"You'd better believe it. Listen, I've gotta go. Phone calls stacking up."

"You need me to come in?"

"I need you to enjoy your day off. This is why they pay me the big bucks," Ross guffawed. "Happy Thanksgiving, Dave!"

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Plender."


	41. No, Seriously, It's Like Prom Shopping

Dave was practically barreling through the Christmas crowds until he saw Adam sauntering in his general direction holding a Jamba Juice.

"Oh Thank God I found you," Dave said as they met in middle, near the Build A Bear kiosk. "I hate the malls at Christmas."

"Good thing you don't need a wedding outfit or anything," Adam stated with a bit of amusement.

"Can it you. You know I'd rather be at that other mall. It's outdoors and the aisles are a lot bigger. But this one has the two-story Target," Dave said as he held his bag up for Adam to see.

"Ooh, what'd you get?"

"Besides an aneurysm from the people just milling about in the middle of the aisles? Well, they had the Rosetta Spanish set I needed but it was like 140 even on sale. So I just bought all the Spanish related stuff I could find."

Adam peeked into the bag. "You got Dora the Explorer in there too?" he teased.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. Seriously, though. There's so much still to do before I leave."

"You know Steven is gonna be okay if you're a little late getting back."

Dave nodded. "I know. But just because we're friends and living in the same house doesn't mean I don't wanna do a good job. Especially since he gave me the same deal I would have gotten at Peets to get off for wedding. Now, where is the JC Penneys so we can get this over with?"

Adam produced a map from the back pocket of his black jeans. His white button down was still tucked in and countered Dave's "Sugar Daddy" tee that Steven had gotten for him as a joke and Dave had proceeded to wear regardless. "I picked one up at customer service. Let's see…where are we at here? Damn, no you are here star. Why don't stop at Oscar and Mike's and refuel?"

"Hey, I thought I was paying for lunch."

Adam snorted. "Trust me, you still are. Nothing dissuades me from god awful mall teriyaki. But you look dead on your feet and I want some marinara-dipped goodness. I'm starving."

"Dude, you could have picked up a burger from Wendys or something. I know you just got off shift," Dave remarked as they started walking toward the Oscar and Mike's.

They continued talking as they waited in line. "Confession time?" Adam stated as he leaned against the railing. "I felt like I hadn't seen you all week."

"God, I know," Dave said as he set his hand on top of Adam's hand on the iron railing. "With you working all hours so you can get the days off for Colorado and me going to the wedding, this has been a nightmare."

"Are you saying you miss me?" Dave's blush was all Adam needed to see before he started to chuckle. "It doesn't take much to get you flustered, does it?"

"Stop it," Dave mumbled halfheartedly as they moved up to the cashier and Adam ordered.

"God, it finally feels good to sit," Dave remarked as they landed at a booth for two.

"I know what you mean."

"Think we'll make it to 2013?"

"I'll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to. Assuming Aunt Bernie's rugrats let me live that long."

"How many kids does she have?"

"Five. All Mormon, only one's of any age to question it. I get to spend the whole of Christmas going through the Osmond family routine."

Dave shook his head. "God, I'm so sorry you couldn't get away from that. Why didn't your mom want to do Visalia again like you said she usually does?"

It was Adam's turn to roll his eyes. "Something about the hassle of cleaning up her kitchen remodel or one of those houses she got to flip or something. Some shit I'm trying not to take personally."

"You're a better person than me. I spent too many years with grandma's hate speech and I think my give a damn would be busted this year," Dave commented as the piping hot breadsticks arrived. Dave began to salivate, not realizing how hungry he was.

Adam beat him to the first breadstick though. "Sorry you had to go through that."

Dave thought for a moment and then raised his breadstick, doing a mock toast to Adam's breadstick. "To family that sucks."

"To family that sucks," Adam agreed and then took a bite thoughtfully after dipping the bread in the tomato sauce. "I…uhhh…I'm glad you called Dave. You look like you're doing better."

"I'm finally sleeping again. I can't tell you how glad I was to hear that they'd already sent everyone home on Thanksgiving break. Turns out firing the old janitor was just what that place needed to go up in flames."

"NPR replayed your interview this morning too."

"Oh God, did they? I hate the way I sound in it, like some freakin' scared gay robot boy. Anyways, I just did it because Skye did one. I was hoping…This is gonna sound silly, but I was hoping that I'd have heard from him by now."

Adam leaned into the table a little, elbows resting on a free spot. "You might still."

Dave shrugged. "Every time I go in to work the phones at Trevor, I half expect him to be in the waiting room."

"It could still happen."

"Maybe."

Adam shook his head. "Believe in miracles, Dave. Don't you think you deserve it?"

Dave looked to his right to avoid Adam's gaze. "After all this time…."

"Hey, I bought you breadsticks. No feeling sad over breadsticks," Adam said as he playfully dotted Dave's palm with marinara sauce.

"Ah, little hot still! Why you cheeky little…"

But Dave felt himself smiling as he looked at Adam. Adam had somehow managed to retain his boyish smile under the goatee and dark hair. Even the crinkle from the bad reset of his nose looked charming and youthful in its own way. It didn't hurt that the pair were almost the same age, though Dave was still technically not legally allowed in Kickers quite yet.

"So…shall we head to JC Penneys or do you just wanna hang?"

"I thought you had a deadline."

"I'll call in sick. If that doesn't work, I'll call in dead. Or zombie apocalypse."

"Steven will know you're lying."

Adam and Dave shared a warm smile and a long look. Dave found himself spewing out some words so he didn't lean across the table and kiss Adam in public. He wasn't quite at that secure a place yet. "I bought your Christmas present while I was at Target too. I know we said we weren't gonna but I couldn't help myself."

"You didn't have to do that."

Dave chuckled. "I…I thought it would be the only way I'd get to see you before you left…"

Adam shook his head. "I'll still be here for awhile, you sentimental old fool. I know we don't see a lot of each other with all the shifts I'm working and parties I'm picking up but trust me when I say come January, I am all yours."

"You mean that?"

Adam nodded. "Hey wait, all I saw in the bag was Spanish stuff that Lane told you to get! Where's my gift?"

"It's already in hiding. You'll have to drag it out of me."

Adam bit down on his lip. "That will be my pleasure. But first we have to get you dressed for the wedding."

Dave groaned but Adam was having none of it as he took Dave by the hand and led him to the JC Penney.

"Okay…where are we going here?" Dave said to himself as he looked at the JC Penney store map, remembering a time when he was younger and he had gotten lost in the store.

"We should stop and check out the Christmas stuff since we're allowing ourselves to dawdle."

"Oh God, please don't tell me you and Steven both want to decorate. Can't we just make some cookies, exchange gifts, and skip the rest?"

"Hey, don't do that to yourself. You should still be able to enjoy your Christmas in spite of what Kaz may or may not have yelled as we left. What happened would have happened, and it would have been somebody else if it wasn't you."

"I'm just glad the damage was minimized. Glad I had the forethought to put that money on a prepaid card. The tailored suit got the brunt of his anger."

"Well, there is that. C'mon, let's find you some stuff."

Dave followed Adam as he weaved through the store. "You know, I got lost in JC Penney once when I was younger."

"How'd you do that?"

"I got distracted by this group of protesters who had chained themselves to the sidewalk protesting fur. Mom lost track of me for half an hour. Found me wandering around the shoe department."

Adam halted in front of a slow moving elderly woman. "You sure that isn't what turned you gay?"

"I don't think so?" They arrived at the mens section and Dave looked at the mannequins, making a face. "You think we should try the big and tall section?"

Adam held out a shirt and stretched out the arm. "Why? You think you'll need it? We'll have you try on some stuff here first and upgrade if need be."

"Oh God, I hope this doesn't take too long. I need to check out the Suncoast before we go. Target didn't have the Game of Thrones."

"Well now you tell me. We could have had onion rings at the Johnny Rocket's. I wanna stop at Suncoast too, they might have the third season of Dexter."

"Isn't that that show about that one serial killer?"

"That dreamy serial killer," Adam countered.

"I'm gonna be jealous of a fictional character, aren't I? And hey, doesn't that show have six seasons or something now?"

"Some of us can't afford the special premium cable channels, so we have to make due."

"Hey, I'm one of those people too! I just…I've just never been much of a tv guy."

"Watch Dexter. He'll change your mind."

"Sure. Somebody once said that about that Carnival show and I disagreed. Maybe I'd feel differently about Game of Thrones? Morgana likes that one. You like this color?"

Adam shook his head. "Only if you wanna look like a giant green apple gumball."

Dave put back the shirt gingerly and then sighed, "God, I am such a horrible gay person. Shouldn't I be good at this shit?"

"We've only been at this five minutes."

"And I'm already over it. If it wasn't for the fact that I'd be seeing Kurt, I'd contemplate showing up in a polo shirt and dark jeans."

Adam snorted. "You'd get no complaints from me about that."

"I wish you could go with me," Dave sighed, "It's a mistake to go by myself. I'm a nervous wreck and I haven't even left the state yet."

"Why are you nervous? Oh, and these pants I think."

"Just…stuff that feels like unfinished business. I'm sure I'm blowing it out proportion, but it's still there. And gray pants with a pink shirt? Really?"

"Charcoal," Adam corrected. "Didn't Kurt teach you anything about colors?"

"Colors are his thing. Sports were kinda mine."

"Makes sense, considering you're a cub and you go to Kicker's. Hey, here's a nice shade of blue. Why don't we try the two and see which one looks better?"

"With the gray? I see some black pants over there…," Adam shot Dave a look. "Okay fine, the gray ones first then."

Dave went off to find the changing room and Adam went off in search of a tie. The first shirt was a nice dark shade of blue,_ probably called periwinkle or something_, Dave thought. But he found that he couldn't move his arms in it and he looked more pale in that particular shade of blue than he ever had looked before in his life.

Adam nearly hyperventilated from laughter when Dave came out, dropping a couple of the ties he was balancing on his fingers. "You…you look like the Incredible Hulk!"

"Thanks for your support," Dave said flatly. "How is it we could suck at this so bad?"

"Hey now. It's just the fit. Try the pink one on. It's a size bigger. You tried on the pants yet?"

"Pants too? God, this is worse than finding a prom outfit."

Dave stalked back into the dressing room, grabbing another shirt so he could save the pink for last, thoroughly convinced it was not the color for him, and started to undress. Then he stopped and smirked. He unzipped his pants and thought about Adam a little, snapped a pic and sent it to Adam, called "A Preview of Coming Attractions."

**Adam**: Oh really

**Adam**: If it's war you want, it's war you'll get.

Dave looked at his buzzing phone as he was buttoning up a chocolate colored shirt he had seen on a hangar outside the small bevy of dressing rooms. It fit pretty well too, though he wasn't sure about the color. Adam's picture came out better than this own, though Dave could tell he had taken it in his bathroom before his nose had gotten broken.

**Dave:** Hey! Now whose playing dirty?

**Adam:** I found a tie. Get your buns out of the dressing room.

**Adam:** Unless you can't come out yet. ;)

Dave exited the dressing room in the brown shirt, causing Adam to cock his head as he came around the corner with several old ties replaced and new ones in their stead and found Dave trying to see his back in the mirror in front of the dressing rooms.

"Oh sure, no pink but brown is…"

"Hey, I tried it on for size. Not a fan of the color either though," he made a face, "I feel like a giant unwrapped tootsie pop."

"Did you at least like the pink when you tried it on inside?"

"You think that would be okay to wear in Lima?"

Adam shrugged. "How bad is it there?"

Dave sighed as Adam came up behind him, draping various ties over the brown shirt. "It's not that good honestly. It's not really as bad as it was but…well, it's nothing like here."

"No hot guys to help convince you pink is okay?"

"Not really."

Adam shook his head. "The pink looks good. I don't even have to see it on you, I just kinda know. I am biased though. And probably this tie. You haven't sacrificed the shirt to the bowels of the dressing room gods, have you? So we just need a suit jacket and a belt buckle."

"And fancy shoes. Probably black to go with the gray."

"Shiny patent leathers? God, you sound like a Catholic school girl. Or are you looking to get lost for half an hour again?"

"Shut it you. I just wanna look presentable."

"You always do," Adam said as he fixed Dave's collar. "Somehow, I think you'll make Kurt regret his decision to not pick you."

Dave looked down, aware of how everything was changing when he spoke next. "Listen, I'm sorry. Steven said I'd been talking about him too much recently. But, for the record, I'm glad that all happened now. I'm working in my own name and besides, how else would I have met you?"

Adam gave a small smile as he stood in the mirror next to Dave. "Some would say that was a matter of fate."


	42. SD to Tulsa to Minn to Cleveland

"Flight 1328 United to Little Rock leaving from Gate B14. All passengers requesting assistance to board this flight…," the pleasant female airline voice came over the loudspeaker, resulting in an echo throughout the open area. Morning was upon San Diego and Dave found the entire area lit up by the sun, as though the San Diego airport was inside of nothing but a glass cage.

Steven looked around and exhaled. "Well, you ready?"

Dave felt the color begin to drain from his face. "No. Not really."

"But you've got all your stuff?"

Dave opened his front jacket pocket and rifled around in his cold weather jacket. He couldn't speak for the rest of the country, but the weather looked pretty safe to fly, cold and smooth sailing, except for a rocky patch out of Tulsa. He vaguely recalled that he was actually leaving a day later than he had anticipated with Kaz.

Kaz. Kaz was supposed to be going with him. Instead…Dave didn't want to think about it. Not right now. It needed to wait until he got back.

He pulled out his brand new drivers license, his confirmation stuff, and looked it over. "Two layovers, three planes, and a shuttle from Cleveland International into Lima. I'm ready, I guess."

"Do you want me to come with you to security?"

"You shouldn't have to do that. I'm not twelve or anything."

"You look like you're gonna pass out."

"I wish Adam was here."

"He is in spirit. But he spent all night with you last night playing pool and doin' …whatever you youngsters did after I went to bed."

Dave looked down at his carry-on bag. Most of his gear was being shipped straight to the Motel 8 where he was staying maybe two miles from the high school where he had spent a good amount of time making Kurt's life hell. "I….thanks Steven. I know I must seem like a nervous wreck."

"You do. But you've gotta stop worrying. There are people there that want to see you."

"And if you hear from Skye while I'm gone…"

"Sally's got her connections at MCC and Lane's on the lookout if he comes into the Trevor Project. Would you stop worrying?"

"Sorry. I'm just…I'm sort of a mess."

"Stop saying you're sorry. Here," Steven pulled a small box out of his pocket. "Something for the plane."

"You got me a gift? I am coming back before Christmas, you know."

"Pre-Christmas gift then. Don't worry. It'll take your mind off stuff, probably have to screw with it to figure how to get it on airplane mode, though."

"What did you…holy crap, Steven! It's an Android!"

Steven shook his head. "Not really. Can't make calls with it. More like a personal organizer thing, but I did upload some music and a couple of my favorite games. You know, Angry Birds in Space and Fruit Ninja and stuff. You can sync it with your phone calendar and there's even a thing in there to help you out with parts ordering at the shop. This thing will make both our lives easier."

"I…I didn't get you anything."

"You getting yourself right with the people back home is enough. You come back to me in one piece, here? Don't make no trouble for those poor Buckeyes. They got it bad enough as it is."

Dave gasped as Steven grabbed him in a hug. "Thank you so much," Dave said through cloth as he realized just how close Steven was to him in height. "For everything."

"Well shoot, neither of us'll be happy until we both start bawling. I'll see you when you get back, okay? Now get over to that check-in kiosk before I change my mind."

Dave nodded. "Yeah. I've only got two and half hours until take off, after all."

"That's my boy. Now get."

Dave started to walk and then turned, looking back to find Steven was turning and walking back towards the parking garage elevators. Dave sighed as he punched in his confirmation numbers at the kiosk and printed his tickets. He didn't notice until he was emptying his pockets at security later that Steven had slipped forty bucks into his jacket. He texted him from where he was sitting next to a Cinnabon stand.

**Dave**: Really? You gave me more money?

**Steven**: What am I supposed to do? Make a quilt out of it?

**Steven**: I'm doing okay for myself and so will you.

**Steven**: You should probably get one of those neck pillow things while you're there.

**Steven**: And a Cinnabon.

Dave couldn't argue with that logic much.

By the time of his one hour layover in Tulsa, Dave couldn't ignore the slight tremor in his hand. His mouth had gone dry despite the three bottles of water, and two trips to the tiny bathroom in Tulsa, and the color was completely gone from his face.

Every time he dozed, he saw flashes of images; nightmares.

_"You have no idea how incredibly extraordinarily ordinary you are!" Kurt would scream first._

_And then he would be throwing up while sitting on the floor of the cold metal bathroom from Stone Eagle._

_Earlier moments, before Kurt, would flash then. Stolen moments of looking at other guys and then beating up his hands on the punching bag in the gym as punishment._

_The torn up tailored suit strewn about the hallway leading up to Kaz's door._

_The dogs in New Orleans that Dave had sacrificed his two last cheeseburgers to run away from._

_Faith healing at Grandma Lillian's church. Her look of expectation that one day he would be strong enough to be the kind of man Grandpa Dave had been._

_Floating Uno cards made up to look like zombies chasing Dave down a multicolored hallway._

_That stolen tryst with the lifeguard from camp, the same year he met Azimio._

_Taunting Kurt with Supercuts._

_Belts and light bulbs, the sound of AIM boxes pinging in the background._

He'd wake up frozen afterwards, gripping whatever armchair he happened to be at. His neck never got stiff thanks to Steven's suggestion about the neck pillow, but not even that could distract him. And his hands were shaking so much that he couldn't fiddle with his palm pilot. Every step, every moment. Closer, back to his past.

Dave threw up once just for good measure once he reached Minneapolis. And Minneapolis was turning out to be his favorite layover of all because the airport was nothing but a giant glorified T shape. He had an hour and a half to make it to his next gate and he walked slowly, stopping to buy some chocolate peanut butter fudge because it seemed to be the only thing his body wasn't rejecting.

He somehow made it onto his flight from Minneapolis to Cleveland, collapsing into his seat. He was one of the last to board the plane and found that his seatmate was already asleep next to him. This he was fine with as Dave didn't trust himself to talk.

He found himself dozing and then woke up after he had kicked the little metal bar underneath the seat in front of him. He hissed between his teeth and then looked over. The window was closed, something that Dave wished he could fix but he didn't want to reach over the guy next to him who was still sleeping.

Dave sighed, reaching for the Sky Mall magazine. He thought overpriced goodies might be a good enough distraction. He flipped through, noting they Harry Potter wands and segways and a variety of useless crap like MP3 to Record converters that were shaped like juke boxes. What was the point of this magazine?

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

_Oh_, Dave thought. _Free soda and peanuts_. He looked up at the flight attendant. She had a pleasant smile, glasses, short blond hair, and a name tag that called her Anna. She was one of the most adorable looking people Dave had ever seen. Too bad he felt like crap. "Yeah, thanks. You got Vernors?"

"Nope, sorry. We have ginger ale but I think its Canada Dry," she winced.

"No, that's fine. Just need something to calm my nerves."

"Well here," Anna said after she wrote down what Dave wanted to drink and slipped a hand into her vest pocket, "a token for luck."

Dave took the tiny golden airplane pin with an expression of amusement on his face. "Well thanks. I suppose I could use all the luck I can get."

Anna began to move down the aisle after noting that Dave's seatmate was still asleep. Dave went back to his Sky Mall just in time to see the sun come filtering in through the window. The man next to Dave seemed to have woken up.

"Did I miss the drink cart?"

"Just about," Dave said with a shrug, "you want me to call her back?"

"Nah. She'll be back if you got something."

Dave nodded. "Ginger ale. No Vernors. They've got a menu in here."

The older man with long hair and a fedora nodded back, grabbing the menu off the little pocket in the back. "Best selection of all the airlines but I'm thinking I should skip the soda. Concerts to play all next week."

"You do music stuff? There's a museum in Cleveland for that, right?"

The man nodded. "Sure is. But we've got gigs all over Ohio doing our metal noir covers of 80s stuff and my best friend's wedding in Ann Arbor. As crazy as it sounds, she's doing a Phish themed wedding."

"Really? I'm going to a wedding too, that's weird. Oh thanks," he said to Anna as she came by with his plastic cup of ginger ale and complimentary bag of peanuts.

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

"I'll take a bottle of water, hold the peanuts, thanks."

"No peanuts? I thoughts that's why everybody flew?" Dave said.

The man shrugged. "I'd much rather be in a tour bus, trust me. Might have a horrible smell after a few days, but you see more of the country. Meet some really awesome people that way."

"Huh. I guess. I've done the road trip thing myself. Had to change to a flight at the last minute, paid up the wazoo for the convenience of seeing the Tulsa and Minneapolis airports for an hour at a time. I'm Dave, by the way."

"Dan," the older man said, shaking Dave's hand. "Road trips, huh? You a musician or a salesman?"

"Neither. Long story. And normally I like flying but this trip is kinda stressful for me."

"I wasn't gonna say anything, but you look like you got tossed on a couple of miles of bad road."

"Feel like it. People say that wanna see me at the wedding but," Dave shrugged, "sometimes people are too polite to tell you the truth."

"Maybe." Dan took his bottle of water from Anna and unscrewed the lid. "Well, I don't want to be rude Dave but I'm still jet-lagged from a circuit I did in Tokyo and I need some sleep."

"Tokyo? Holy carp, man, that sounds exciting."

"Well, it was. And if I ever recover my hearing from the level those Japanese fan girls reached, I'll be mighty surprised. My partner got a real chuckle out of it though. Oh," Dan added as he took a swig of water and settled back in for sleep, "good luck at your wedding."

Dave let Dan return to his restful state and found that his hands were crushing his plastic cup. He steadied himself so he could let his tray table down and wouldn't soak himself in ginger ale. He sighed, unable to calm himself down and hoped that he'd feel better when they finally landed. Maybe getting there would have been more than half the battle.

He landed in Cleveland and found himself waiting ten minutes to exit the plane behind two very heavy older men in large floral print shirts. One of which had a large satchel with a dog on it that looked like one of those things from the Cesar dog food commercials. They put him in a foul mood because not only did they hold up the line but they bitched about the slow moving elderly couple in front of them that Dave thought were quite lovely in general and didn't deserve the venom that was being tossed their way.

_Ohio, Dear God_. Dave thought.

He'd never been to Cleveland International and he looked up and around for signs once he was gratefully in the airport. He began walking to baggage claim through a moving sea of humanity and found that he was getting cold already. In the airport.

_Wimp_, he said to himself, _you've been gone from Ohio how long and you're already cold because of freaking air conditioning?!_

But then his brain shut off when he saw someone holding a sign with his name at baggage claim, near the Ohio Shuttle Vans service line.

"Adam?"

Adam set the sign down on the floor as Dave walked quickly to him. "You know, you can get here much faster if you take a straight flight from Portland. It's a little more expensive…"

And then Adam found himself in one of the most tender and yet needy hugs he had ever been part of. "It's so good to see you," Dave said, unable to contain what he was feeling.

"I know. I know," Adam said as Dave broke the hug but let his hands fall down so they were almost touching Adam's. "I wanted to tell you, ever since Oscar and Mike's but Steven made me promise. I'm bouncing on my Aunt Bernie and her Osmond family revue this year. You're totally worth the hour lecture from my mom."

"I am going to kill him when we get home."

"Long flight?"

Dave nodded. "I'm psyching myself out. I don't know why I thought this would be a good idea."

"I'm here now. We'll get through this together, though. Right?"

"Right," Dave gulped. "Shit! No! Oh wait. Thank God."

"Forget something?"

"Automatic double bed booking," Dave breathed a sigh of relief. "We've gotta be careful. We're not in California anymore."

Adam nodded. "I know. We'll be cousins, okay? At least until we're at the reception and we've got the place scoped out. I'm here for you."

"And that matters to me more than anything."


	43. Half Meat Lovers, Half Hawaiian

Dave made a fwump noise as he fell into his mattress. "Thank God," he mumbled from atop the covers.

"Land ho! All's ashore that's going ashore," Adam quipped as he entered the room with the luggage and the box Dave had shipped earlier. Closing the door behind him, he studied Dave's form. "Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"Comfy?"

"No," Dave flipped over and looked at Adam. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Only if you scoot over so I can join you first."

Dave tried to oblige, but there wasn't much room. "This is…," Adam took the opportunity to scrunch into what space he could as Dave managed his form on the bed, feet dangling, "…the best I could do."

"Good enough. So what's the secret?"

"Well…"

Dave's phone buzzed, causing Dave to dig for it. He held it up in the air.

**Kurt**: I saw the van service leaving town. You here?

**Dave**: Yep.

**Kurt**: Date or dateless?

**Dave**: Better answer

"Make a face," Dave said as he took a picture of him and Adam and sent them to Kurt.

**Kurt**: Well, that was unexpected

**Blaine**: Nice

**Dave** (to Blaine): Thanks

**Dave** (to Blaine): Adam grabbed my phone

**Dave** (to Blaine): What I meant to say…no "thanks" was right.

"Jerk," Dave said softly to Adam.

"So what was the secret? Or am I gonna have to withhold pizza?"

"I know it's gonna sound silly…"

**Kurt**: Hey, I want to see you but I've got a lot of work to do for tomorrow.

**Blaine**: What he means is that he's working himself to death.

**Dave**: That's no good! Stop working yourself to death!

**Kurt**: It was boring here without a project.

**Kurt**: You'll agree when you see it that it was worth it.

**Dave**: …..

**Kurt**: So, you two have any plans for tonight?

**Blaine**: Kurt! I read that!

**Dave**: My plans are zzzzzzzz

**Kurt**: Why did you send me a picture of a pillow?

**Dave**: Adam just smacked me in my face with one

**Dave**: Something about not being a cover hog

**Dave**: Or he'd snore all night

**Blaine**: See previous comment

**Kurt**: I am gonna see you at the wedding

**Kurt**: You owe me a dance, mister

**Dave**: Uh

**Kurt**: No uhs

**Blaine**: I've got to agree with Kurt on this

**Dave**: Okay

"You know, either you tell me the secret or I'm gonna order extra anchovies and jalapenos on this pizza I'm thinking about. Are there any good places to get pizza here?"

Dave sat up in bed, turning to Adam. "I'm having a hard time concentrating between you and them, so I'm gonna say …Pizza Hut? Also tv. And lots of sleeping. I feel like tomorrow's gonna be busy."

"First, you tell me that secret."

Dave rolled his eyes, closing his phone. He sighed, snuggling back into Adam. "Look, I know it's gonna sound silly and you and Stephen probably think I'm nuts but I thought when we hit the city limits an invisible barrier was gonna throw me out of the shuttle van."

"Why would it do that?"

Dave shook his head. "If you knew the type of guy I was back then…"

Adam quirked an eyebrow. "Then I was right. Miracles do happen, don't they?"

Dave nodded. "Guess so. Can we just get a Hawaiian pizza and some breadsticks please?"

"What do you want to….would you listen to me? I almost took your damn drink order."

"None of that. Not this weekend. You are my guest and I'm gonna order the pizza."

Dave's phone went off again.

**Mercedes**: Welcome home, boy!

**Dave**: Hey! Are you in town too?

**Mercedes**: Of course

**Mercedes**: Where are you at?

**Dave**: The 8. But the bigger one with the lobby.

**Mercedes**: Fancy

**Mercedes**: What about your dad?

**Dave**: Not thinking about that tonight. Just wanna sleep

**Dave**: The trip was hell

**Mercedes**: So…tell me about your date. Is he cute?

**Dave**: Judge for yourself

**Mercedes**: That's…I'm glad you're so comfy with each other

**Dave**: =)

**Mercedes**: So, you're gonna love tomorrow

**Dave**: I am?

**Dave**: Kurt already texted, told me I owed him a dance

**Mercedes**: He's not wrong

"Hello, Pizza Hut?"

"Oh God, sorry Adam. I promise I'm gonna stop texting Mercedes soon…"

Adam waved him off as he took off his shoes. "Yeah. Room 24, Motel 8." Adam screwed his face up into a question and looked at Dave, hand to his phone so the pizza hut cashier couldn't hear. "What street are we on?"

"Ummm…Fourth and State? Yeah, fourth and state."

"Fourth and state," Adam repeated the order. "Let's see…large half meat lovers and half hawaiian, breadsticks, 2 liter of sprite, you got wings?….boneless…honey bbq please…no, that's okay. Yeah, we can do that. Thanks."

"Thank you for getting the wings. I am going to put my phone up," Dave said. He walked over the desk across the room and set his phone as far from himself as he could to avoid temptation. "And we are gonna eat pizza and watch some bad movies and …"

"Bowchickawowwow if the pizza guy is hot?" Adam teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dave shook his head. "Not in Lima. You're confusing us with LA."

"You're telling me all those Midwestern farm boys desperate to make some extra cash…"

"Live in Iowa. Now scoot over."


	44. Reunions at the Reception

"That was an amazing ceremony. Your friend Kurt was right."

"I never doubted him for a second. It was a great wedding."

"Yeah," Adam nodded. "But now comes the best part."

"Please," Dave snorted as they walked through the parking lot, "I saw you tearing up like Nathan Lane."

"You grabbed for my hand," Adam corrected, "you old softie."

"I like your hand. I like a lot of things about you."

"Careful, or I'll push you in a broom closet and give you a wedding reception to remember."

"Promise or a threat?"

"Take your pick."

They sauntered up to the reception, running behind the rest of the wedding guests. Dave had wanted to stop in the nearby cemetery to pay respects to the family plot, which he'd probably never be included in now if Grandmother Lillian had her way. Dave had merely shrugged. He only really missed Great Uncle Ernie and Ernie hadn't really been a Karofsky.

_I wonder if Dad is here at the reception_, he thought grimly. He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid this forever, not because of his dad but because his mother's histrionics wouldn't be far behind. He missed his dad but his mom was just…too much to take. Even for him.

He thought he recognized the guy by the reception doors smoking a cigarette. Then he heard the voice and he knew. "Karofsky?"

"Puckerman?"

Dave walked up as Noah flicked his cigarette into the ash bucket. They gripped hands like old war buddies. "How the hell are ya?"

"Fine…I'm, my god Noah, I haven't seen you since the Thriller thing."

Noah nodded. "You could've dude. No judgments. I mean, hell, we put up with Kurt's shenanigans for years. And you're like as dude as they come. You would've been cool."

"I hope everybody feels that way in here."

Noah nodded. "Hey, we're family. We might treat each other like shit sometimes, but there it is. You gonna introduce me to your…" Noah raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, my…ummm…this is Adam. Adam's my, "the word date stuck in Dave's throat. What were they anyways? They'd discussed it but not come to any real conclusion. He was playing cousin for the desk clerk at the 8 but Dave wanted more for Adam here. Wanted Adam to be accepted if Dave could be accepted, could be forgiven. He hadn't feared Noah forgiving him. After all, Noah had been just as bad back in his day. Dave took a short breath. "My man."

Noah shook his head, shaking Adam's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"So, Puckerman, what's it like in there?"

"Kurt knew what he was doing."

"Not surprised. I mean, who's all in there? Just McKinley people?"

"Mostly. I mean, you got the old folks but all the gang's here. You're cool, bro. Stop worrying."

Dave nodded to himself. "Thanks Puck. Hey, what about you? You stag?"

"Of course. Got a short time girl in Cali with my pool cleaning business while I go to school on side for business and shit so I can be legit but she couldn't get off work. Holidays."

"I know how that is," Adam shrugged. "I'm a bartender most of the time, go to school for law the rest of it."

"You caught yourself a lawyer? Good for you, Dave man."

"I…thanks? Listen, we're gonna head in. Care to join?"

"Nah. Ducking Lauren. If she sees me smoking again, she's gonna pound me into the ground and now she's got that WWE Championship Belt on top of everything. Gonna take another minute."

"Roger that," Dave said as he and Adam headed inside.

"Who was that?" Adam whispered into Dave's ear.

"We…played football together. He and I weren't very tight, even before Glee. But he always made my bullying tactics look like shit. Always knew how to one-up me. Almost got me out of the closet at that Thriller performance too, truth be told."

"Seems pretty cool with you."

"He is now. We almost had a fight once in the choir room too. I wonder what Kurt's told everybody."

"Woah. Can't imagine he's had time to tell them anything. Look at this place."

Dave was. The whole place had the mark of Kurt about it. He had converted an old banquet hall into a beautiful Sound of Music fantasy. The tables were classic, mason jars of edelweiss and twinkling Christmas lights completing the white fantasy theme, with odd bits of burnt orange and sea green tastefully woven into everything. Old albums covered in glass glittered and cascaded down the sides of the walls.

People milled about in small groups, drinking sparkling cider and champagne. A blond with a fake tan sat across two chairs and her high-pitched laugh made Dave feel nauseous.

"Come on, Dave, just pick someone to say hi to," he muttered to himself. Dave suddenly felt very aware of how awkward he was and wouldn't have been surprised if he had forgotten how to breathe.

"Why David Karofsky, as I live and breathe."

Dave turned his head and then gasped. "Santana?"

"The one and the only. Come give Santana some love," she opened her arms wide and Dave obeyed. They hugged and Dave remembered a moment long ago where she had threatened to throw razor blades at him. He choked back the shiver. "And introduce me to your hunk of a wedding date."

"Adam," Adam said as he trailed Dave. They shook hands and she gave a nod.

"Auntie Tana approves," and then she crossed her arms, "so let's start off with where the hell have you been and why haven't you come to visit me in LA when I was visiting Mercedes?"

"I…"

"Santana, we discussed this. You don't just go telling Dave's he's gotta come up to see us," Mercedes stated as she joined the group.

"Well I'm sorry but it's just a three hour drive. It's farther getting from here to Michigan."

"Hi Dave!" Mercedes waved cheerfully, her free hand holding a sparkling cider flute elegantly. She was a divine dream in blue, countering Santana's dangerously sharp rose red pantsuit combination. "Wow, the pictures did not do you justice."

"Thanks," Adam said as he smiled warmly. "And you must be Mercedes. Dave told me you came to his opening night for Godspell."

"Wait, wait, wait," Santana cocked her head. "You're doing musicals now?! And nobody felt like I should know?"

"It must've slipped my mind," Mercedes teased. "Besides, that's not really his thing anyway. You're saving the world now at the Trevor Project, aren't ya?"

Dave shrugged. "I just answer phones."

"Don't be so modest. A birdie says that you got a promotion and you're taking that show on the road too. High schools all over California."

"Which birdie said that?"

"Kurt."

Dave nodded. "Ah. Well, let's not make a big deal out of it."

"Make a big deal out of what?"

**A flashback**. _"Z was looking at his bucket list and realized we'd never slushied you. Damn near broke his heart."_

Dave's voice caught in his throat. "Artie."

"Dave. And…your date?"

"Call me Adam. Or Mr. Karofsky. Whatever's easiest."

Mercedes and Santana let out hearty laughs, Artie just shook his head and did a little hand jive wave he'd been known for. He looked a little different than Dave remembered, but he was still nerdy outside and white chocolate inside Artie. Not that much had really changed in a year.

"I like this one. Come," Santana said as she took Adam by the arm, "and tell Santana all about yourself."

Dave watched Adam walking away and talking with Santana and felt a sense of dread. "Forgot how pushy she could be."

"Well, she was hiding. Just like you. Seems like time was just what everybody needed to get where they were going, " Mercedes said.

"God, this feels like a class reunion where I only know about half the people."

"Well," Artie added helpfully. "The original twelve expanded a bit, despite how many times we almost lost the whole club. And Mr. Schue did have a couple of friends outside of the club, but not many. It's kind of sad that I know everybody here."

Dave chuckled. "Damn Artie, be a little more honest why don't you?"

"I pride myself on it. So what's been going on with you, boy? You disappeared off our radar screen there for a little while?"

"Mercedes, can you fill him in? I just saw Coach Beiste and I wanna…"

Mercedes nodded. "Sure. But don't go too far. You can't believe what Kurt's got in store for this wedding."

Dave nodded and headed over to an appetizer table where Coach Beiste was loading up on turkey slices. Dave suddenly felt awkward, not sure what to say. "Coach."

Shannon Beiste looked up and had to blink for a minute. "You're…yeah, it's you. But look at you. Karofsky."

Dave nodded. "It's me. I saw you over here and I just…"

Shannon shook her head, setting her plate down and walking around the table to hug him. "Damn, you had a lot us scared. It's good to see you alive, boy."

"I…" Dave was shocked by the hug, but more shocked by how much different she seemed to. More mellowed and sharper, but still the Beiste. Still capable of whooping Dave's hide with one punch of the fist. "..thanks."

"I heard you moved to California."

"Yeah? You hear that from Kurt?"

Shannon nodded. "Word travels fast. And I'm glad cause you had a lot of us worried more than a cat in the cradle while a lady was with a tramp."

"I didn't plan for it. But life kinda happened," Dave said, generalizing the weird trip he'd been on this past year.

"You look good, though. Healthy. Getting a lot of training in?"

Dave shook his head. "Don't have much time. I do move around a lot of auto parts in my part time job, but I've got that flab going that just never seemed to go anywhere."

"It's good to see you, David," Shannon said.

"it's good to be seen. Say, where's everyone getting the cider from?"

"That would be from over here. Hope you don't mind," Sam Evans said as he joined Shannon and Dave, handing Dave a flute of cider. "I couldn't resist. The famous Karofsky, bully turned savior back from the dead."

"That's very poetic, Evans."

"It's more than I deserve. How the hell are you, Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "Been better, been worse. As always, the Saminator survives. Got Blaine elected senior class president this year."

"Oh my God, I wish I could've seen that."

"It was intense. Who knew Brittany would put up such a fight for power?"

"Brittany? Blonde cheerleader Brittany?"

Sam nodded as Shannon excused herself from the conversation. "Oh, I see Figgins over there. Gotta talk shop. Stop by if you get chance, I'm sure Figgy'd love to see ya, Dave."

"Thanks," Dave saluted with his cider flute. "So…Brittany? Really?"

"It was insane."

"Help me," came the teasing voice from behind Dave's right side. He turned to see Adam with tie slightly askew.

"What happened?"

"Santana happened. She and this Lauren girl threatened to wax my unibrow. I do not have a unibrow!" Adam stated adamantly.

"You do too. And we could fix it."

"Karofsky, nice catch you brought with ya."

"Thanks Lauren," Dave shrugged. "How's the WWE?"

"Oh, I'm not with them anymore. They were a bunch of punk bitches, all hair pulling and no chutzpah. I'm actually starting a ring of female luchador in Mexico. We're so bad ass, we don't even wear masks. Pretty good, right?! Now send your boy toy my way and let me love him Lauren style."

"You owe me, Dave," Adam teased as he slipped away with Lauren in hot pursuit.

"Me gusta," Santana added as she followed the pair.

Dave rolled his eyes. "It's seriously high school in here."

"Tell me about it," Sam nodded. "So, how does it feel?"

"Weird," Dave stated truthfully. "I wasn't even sure I'd be welcome."

"Well, Mike and Matt are both over there and nobody's seen Matt since his transfer into Mt. Carmel's pre dent program and since Mike broke up with Tina, he's kind of been an outcast even by Glee standards."

"Ouch, sounds like drama."

"You have no idea. But, to be honest, besides the fact Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury got hitched finally, you're the big thing here tonight."

Dave shook his head. "No. Not me. I haven't done anything worth that kind of status."

Sam took a moment. "I know you can't see it yet. But you will. To you."

Dave was uncomfortable but toasted for himself, secretly giving the toast to Skye. He'd never take credit by himself. "So, Sam…"

And that was when he saw him. The man he'd been waiting to see this whole time. Standing over with his Dad and a red-headed woman who must have been Finn's mom.

**A memory**. _Being shoved against a bulletin board. "You like threatening people's lives, huh?!"_

"Dave, man, you okay?"

Dave shook his head. "No, I…I need some air I think."

Sam put his hand on Dave's elbow. "It's more than that, isn't it?"

Dave nodded. "I hurt everyone in this room."

"Not your date."

"He doesn't think I could've ever been that kind of person."

"But you're not now, are you? I mean, it's been over a year, right? Shit man, you don't even live in this state anymore. You gonna tell me you're the same person?"

"I….," Sam was right of course. Dave couldn't be the same person anymore. The Dave before the suicide attempt and Stone Eagle and San Diego wouldn't have carried on those phone conversation with Kurt and Blaine, wouldn't be working at the Trevor Project, would have never met Adam in a million years.

Dave took in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. I've changed."

"So go over and say hi. You're one of the few things he's been talking about looking forward to seeing all this time."

"He said that?"

Sam nodded and then another voice added in. "You just gonna stand there?" It was Adam.

"You sure?" Dave looked over his shoulder as Adam nodded.

"If you don't, I am gonna push you over there. Go."

Dave knocked back the rest of his sparkling cider and shook out his shoulder a little. "Okay, I can do this."


	45. Reunions at the Reception Part 2

In Dave's mind somewhere, the entire population of the dance floor parted as they stood on opposite ends. Kurt was wearing something that only Kurt could pull off, this weird and fashionably chic thing that was too tight in all the right places. His hair was slightly different than Dave remembered, teased up and with some blonde highlights added.

But he had the same laugh, Dave would know it anywhere. He had never caused it, but he had heard it often enough. Kurt was talking to an African American girl who made a sassy hand gesture and Kurt shook his head. Kurt's dad and Blaine were talking about something serious and then Dave realized via hand motion that it was about something to do with Blaine's Chrysler.

Dave felt the world stop, swallowing him whole in its time embrace. **A memory, the hardest one yet.**

_Kurt's delicate hand in his own, so tiny and so much braver. A wonderful posture and yet…Dave could never be like him. Not just because Kurt was Kurt but he had come back in after being voted prom queen. He'd been striking, so beautiful, so witty._

_"Now's your moment, he had said. Come out."_

_"What?" Dave had replied. Kurt had never understood him, never understood that. How had it not been so easy for Kurt? Everyone had known. It was literally the most obvious thing in the world to anyone in a five mile radius that Kurt was deep into lady fabulous territory._

_That was maybe the only time Dave had spoken the truth. "I can't."_

And then he had run. The first purely truthful but not the last of his cowardly acts. No, that would come much later.

And now he found himself walking, or possibly being shoved, over to Kurt Hummel. A friend, an inspiration, and in some ways the unattainable love of Dave's life.

No. Not the love of his life. At least not love like Dave had always thought of it. Love like that came from Howe and Stephen and even Adam. He and Kurt had something though, always would.

"David!"

Kurt's voice broke through the revelry and Dave found himself in a hug with Kurt. His breath left him in the middle of that dance floor. It seemed surreal after everything, after Stone Eagle and Kaz going bat-shit crazy and the Trevor Project and Godspell that he was here. And Kurt wanted to see him. Was happy to see him.

"You look good," Blaine added. He stood a step back from Kurt and Dave, polite but still possessive of his boyfriend.

"Thanks," Dave said as he let go of the hug, although even he would have to admit it had taken all of him to do just that. But he knew Adam was there, watching. Not criticizing, but knowing there was a deep and strong history between the two, for good and for ill.

"Blaine's right, look at you!"

"I don't look that different, Kurt."

"You don't look that much the same either."

"David," Burt Hummel stated as he advanced, grabbing for the younger man's hand. "It's good to see you."

"Doesn't he look fantastic?" Kurt gushed.

"He looks alive. That's the most important thing to start with."

"Thank you sir and might I say how…"

"Now son, if the next words out of your mouth are "very sorry", I'm gonna lose all respect for you. You don't gotta say it, I know. I've heard what you're doing now. And it's good. So you keep it up. Stay the course with your job and your life and this new guy. You got that?"

"Yes, sir," Dave said.

"Okay, now that we got that out of the way. Where in the hell did your dad learn to make that bean dip?"

"Oh God yes," Kurt piped up, "he won't share the recipe."

"Bean dip? Oh God," was Dave really having this conversation right now? "I think that might be an old scout recipe. Count on Dad to…" and then Dave stopped. "Is he here?"

"He's probably in the parking lot waiting to see you," Burt added.

"Is my mom with him?"

"That's something you've gotta find out for yourself."

"Dad," Kurt said to ease the tension, seeing the shadows play across Dave's face," you've spoiled the surprise."

"Can't imagine how it would be much of one. Like I said in my message, he's proud of you. But I can't tell you what to do about everything that's happened."

Dave nodded. "It's true. Plus, there's the whole matter of my …"

"Adam," Adam stated as he took Burt Hummel's hand. "Dave's date."

Kurt blinked, also taking Adam's hand. "That picture certainly didn't do you justice."

"I'd say not," Unique said from farther back where she had been watching. And that's when Dave realized they were all watching. It was a nightmare and he felt his knees shake. Perspiration started to bead his forehead.

"Kurt, everyone's…man, do something!"

"Seriously, guys!" Kurt burst out and the room started moving again after Kurt gave one of his patented imperious gazes out. "There. That help?"

"You okay?" Adam's hand felt good on Dave's back.

Dave nodded as Blaine brought out a chair. "Here, you're up at our table anyways, have a seat."

Dave sat, feeling guilty that he had to be treated like an indigent simply because he couldn't handle a little pressure. "Sorry, sorry about that. Some reunion huh."

"You still owe me that dance," Kurt said.

Dave shook his head. "I need a moment."

Kurt chuckled, pulling up a chair. "Dave Karofsky, we have an entire lifetime of friendship before us. What makes you think this is the only dance I'm gonna get out of you?"

"I can't imagine."

"You did a great job with this wedding," Adam stated as he stood behind Dave and put his hand on Dave's shoulder.

Kurt smiled. "Thanks, Adam."

"Kurt is a genius at this sort of thing," Blaine and Burt said at the same time.

"Yeah, he's got a real knack for it," Finn said as he walked across the dance floor with Rachel.

Rachel smiled at Dave and Adam. "It's so good to see you guys!"

"Finn. Rachel. Hello," Dave said, straining for the bad memory as it had come several times before. But the ghost wouldn't come this time and Dave couldn't' figure out why. Perhaps he'd already had enough bad flashbacks?

And then the music started. The bride and groom were about to make their grand entrance.

And then the memory came and Dave had to leave the room. "_Can I borrow this?"_

He didn't see Adam follow from a distance as he went to gulp air, kneeling and trying not to throw up in the cigarette butt tin. It was all a farce. He thought at any minute they'd surround him and tie him to a stake for burning as a witch, a heretic, a false prophet, and a fake.

But he just kept breathing, kept sweating and shaking, hoping it would pass.

"David?"


	46. What We've Been Through

"Just tying my shoe," he called out, trying to cover his anxiety with a lie. He brought his knee up so he could complete the picture, trying to shut out the voice and the sound of shoes on gravel.

But eventually he looked up and found his father's eyes. He rose slowly, feeling everything drain from him and drop like rain to the ground. They hadn't seen each other in over a year, talking through others in shadows and fear.

Here, though, there was nowhere to hide. No one to protect them from the things that had happened, a father's fall from grace and a son's malleable depression and anger. Symptoms of a disease and the line between two generations yearning to find out what it meant to have true freedom.

"David," was all Paul could think to say.

Dave found his hands in his jacket pocket and then his gaze hit the ground so he wouldn't see what his Dad was trying to put into words. "Dad."

"David, you're…"

Dave nodded. "I know. Everyone seems a little surprised about that."

"I'm not. The Dave I brought up wasn't a quitter. And no matter what's happened, I think maybe you found him again. Are you going to look at me?"

"I'm afraid to."

"David, I've been waiting to see you since…"

"I know. Me too."

"Then look at me."

Dave began to shake. Tears were falling now. Damn. "I'm trying, trying to say the right thing here."

"There is no right thing. All that matters is that you are my son and…"

"You sent me away," Dave shouted, the words cutting through the night like a knife. He stumbled back into the cigarette container, ash spilling onto the ground a little on the top of his shoes. "Damn," he said quietly, "new shoes too."

"I know I did. I was scared."

"You just let me go to that…to that place! Have you seen the news? Do you know? Did you have any idea?"

"I do now. I've, did Kurt tell you I've been going to meetings? P-Flag. To try and …David…"

Dave shook his head. "To try and understand. Right. I don't know what you want from me here. I can't pretend what happened hasn't turned out alright and I can't pretend that I don't want you to hug me and be my dad but there's too much happening here and trying to be a part of it all…do you know what I did because I thought you'd given up on me? I threatened Kurt! It might be more than a year ago, it might be ten years from now but I'll still hear my voice in my head, Dad!"

"I deserve that," Paul said while his face turned ashen white. "I told them you wouldn't want to see me. And I don't blame you. But you are my son. And I am proud of you. Proud enough to know when you don't want your old man in your life."

Dave's whole body shook hard. Adam took a step forward from the shadows but stopped. He was worried for his lover, had never seen Dave even this close to real emotion, not that suppressed Dave he'd always seen.

Dave wished he didn't feel so alone in the world. He'd spent a year building up this life and in ten minutes, his dad had come and shaken it down. He felt raw and bitter angry, all the things that he'd been robbed of and had to fight for. He couldn't remember them, at this moment, the good faces. The men who loved him in San Diego, the theater groups, Andy Denns. All he could see was himself, that mirror. That damning mirror from so long ago.

That was all there would ever be.

Paul stood between the mirror and the real Dave but he was turning to go, to return to his car and his empty apartment. But there was something he needed to say too, to free himself of Dave's former shadow. "I…I left your mother. I thought you'd want to know."

"You…you left mom?"

Paul nodded. "I had to. She's moved in with your grandmother. I don't want anything to do with either of them. Good riddance, I say! But I thought, I just thought you'd like to know."

"Why?" Dave wasn't crying anymore, his body incapable of producing that much water. "Was it because of me?"

"Partially, but not because of the bullying. Because she couldn't get over the fact that she'd never have a grandchild, that you'd never settle down like we did. Because she was afraid. I, in my dads group, we're reading the biography of Ellen's mom and she talked about it. And it made sense when I finally saw it. I chose you, to be proud of you. You're my son, David. Even if you hate me."

He turned to go, but Dave couldn't let him just walk out. "Wait."

Paul stopped, his head stooped. He may have been crying at that point but Dave was too self absorbed in his own anguish to care. "You know that I'll never get married, right? Not to a girl? That I can't be this? That I tried?"

"Honestly, you succeeding at whatever you were meant for was all I wanted for you, David. I named you after the only man I ever knew who did just that."

"Grandpa?"

"No, the greatest king who ever lived."

"Dad."

Paul turned and Dave felt something shift inside of him. Anger moving, clouding, storming. He felt physically pained as he moved forward. His body was screaming as he moved through the mirror of his old self, shattering his atoms into a million pieces and feeling them rearrange, feeling all of his old doubts and fears and dismissing them.

"Daddy."

Dave felt himself falling, but found that Paul was there in a moment, cradling his son. "My boy. My David. You come home if you want. You stay in California. Just be safe. Just be you. My boy."

The world was so light. Dave felt like he was breathing again for the first time, after having been underwater for a year. All of it came and went in flashes in that parking lot as he and Paul cried together and eventually then they both got up, Paul and Dave straightening their ties and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

"Grandmother Lillian would have had a fit."

"She would have disowned us both on the spot."

The idea caused Dave to howl with laughter and his dad's smile widened. "Can you imagine what she would have said at Christmas dinner?"

"Probably something from Romans or Corinthians about temperance."

"And then we would have watched, do you remember that slideshow from Israel?" Dave leaned against a car, grateful a car alarm didn't go off. He was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing.

"I fell asleep three times watching it," Paul howled.

They laughed for a few moments and then tried to straighten up again. "Dad," Dave spoke first,"You know I'm going to stay in California, right?"

"Kurt thought you might. But I wanted you to have the option."

"Hey, you know, people retire to California too."

Paul nodded. "True, but I've still got a couple good years of accounting left in me here. Then we'll talk about it. But you're missing a party in there."

"Come in with me. I'm sure we can find you a seat."

Paul shook his head. "Not my party. Not my friends. Enjoy your night, David. My son."

"Thanks, Dad."

"And if what's his name…"

"Adam, Dad."

"If Adam is bad to you or hurts you, you just…"

"I'll just chock it up to life experience and move on," Dave said as he finished his dad's thought. "It's okay. Nobody's perfect. Not even us Karofsky men."

Paul smiled warmly, for the first time since even before his son's suicide. "That's my boy. Now go, have a good night."

"Will I see you again before I leave?" Dave called out at the last minute.

"No, but Kurt and Burt are hooking me up with Skype. So you're gonna have to video chat with your old man," Paul called out as he got in his car.

"Deal," Dave called back.

He watched his Dad drive out of the parking lot and felt himself smile. He…what did Dave feel at that moment? He didn't know. Lost in thought, he moved back into the reception hall and nearly ran over Adam.

"Woah there," Adam said. "Where have you been?"

"Ummm…had to get air."

"You just caught me coming out of the bathroom," he lied, unwilling to let Dave known he had witnessed the most remarkable thing he had ever seen. He'd treasure it though, taking it to his grave.

"Ah. What'd I miss?"

"Not much," Adam shrugged as they walked back in the hall. He felt Dave's arm around his shoulder, comfortable and slightly more possessive than before, but not in a worrying way. In a way that meant safety.


	47. Kurt Deep, Dave High

Dave and Adam reentered the ceremony to find that the buffet tables had opened up.

"Smells great in here."

"I thought you'd be tired of smelling wedding food," Dave quipped as they walked over to the line.

"Not really. You have no idea how many meatballs I can suck down in a sitting."

"I have a feeling I'm gonna find out. Bet I can match ya if there's pigs in a blanket."

"You're on," Adam stated with a little nod.

"Hey Karofsky," Finn said as they got in line behind him and Rachel, who was clinging to his arm as though he were a life preserver.

"Finn. How you doing?"

Finn shrugged, turning halfway so he wouldn't have to look over his shoulder to talk. "Can't complain. Through with basic training at least. Got a pass for weekend but I gotta be out first thing in the morning."

"You went into the military?" Dave said. He didn't think Finn looked that different. Still too tall, still too skinny. Still didn't look much like a winning quarterback.

Finn nodded. "Yeah. To…."

"To restore his father's reputation. Which is so noble," Rachel interrupted cheerfully.

"That's pretty hardcore," Dave replied.

Finn shook his head. "Not really. I guess it's awesome that I can take apart an M-16 in less than a minute now and stuff."

"That seems like a handy skill. Where'd you do basic at?"

"Benning."

"And you're a…ummm…what do the naval people call it, Adam?"

"What's your MOS," Adam interjected helpfully.

"Ah. Just infantry for now. I'm up for Officer Candidacy School after I finish AIT though. Thinking about becoming a Ranger."

"Finn's going to see the world!"

"Yeah," Finn added. "I guess. And how's life been treatin' you, man?"

Dave shrugged. "Pretty well. I live in San Diego now, doing some volunteer work. Looking at going back to college."

"You should go to UCSD," Rachel stated as though she'd been intimate with the campus for years. "They have the best theater program there. That one guy from Queer as Folk played in How to Succeed for three years running. I don't think he's that great an actor but they love him on the West End."

"I don't think Dave's going to use theater as a basis for choosing which school he attends, Rachel."

"But you were in Godspell. I heard…" Rachel trailed off, confused.

"You must have heard that he was the best damn plant ever. And John the Baptist," Adam said.

"Oh God, are we gonna bring this up again?"

"What? Aren't you proud of yourself?" Adam teased.

"Well sure. But it's not like it's my thing. The Trevor Project is my thing."

"Cool. You're like a superhero," Finn interjected.

"No I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. Nobody operates a plant puppet quite like you."

"Stop helping," Dave hissed playfully to Adam, who was looking over Finn's shoulder to try and see the spread they were inching towards.

"And you are…" Rachel enquired.

"I'm Adam. Dave's date."

"It's nice to meet you Adam! I should let you know that we're all so proud of Dave. I mean, look at how well he's done for himself without our support. I certainly choose to support him seeing as how I have two gay dads and they've been married unofficially, of course, for over twenty years," Rachel said without stopping to take a breath once.

"That's…nice," Adam replied patiently to Rachel.

"Where did you and Dave meet?" Rachel asked.

"At a mixer in San Diego. He didn't like any of the guys so he decided to hit on the bartender," Adam looked at Dave amusedly, who had turned a little red from blushing.

"How romantic, you from squalor and you from the upper echelons…"

"That's not exactly what happened," Adam chuckled, "We're not exactly Astaire and Kelly."

"Well," Rachel continued unabashedly," you don't have to worry about the menu. As a strict vegetarian, I made sure Kurt put at least two vegan items on the menu and we have our own dessert."

"How…considerate, but not everyone in California is vegetarian or vegan."

"Yeah, we're both fans of meat….not like that!" Dave's eyes went wide as he realized what he said.

"Oh, was Rachel telling you guys how she saved the menu again?"

Dave and Adam had reached the beginning of the plates and Rachel and Finn were suitably distracted with the first warming station so Dave turned to his side so he could talk to Quinn. "Hey Quinn. How are you?"

"Not bad. Got into Yale. Pledging Alphi Phi," she stated with a smile as she showed off the pin on her yellow dress.

"Yale? That's pretty good! What do you want to do there?"

"More importantly, have you met Professor Davidson?" Adam asked with an intrigued impatience.

Quinn nodded at Adam. "I have him for Metaphysics of Law. It's a prereq to get into family law. I'm looking into doing adoptions for a living. Not exactly lucrative, but I'm sure I'll live."

"That sounds pretty intense," Dave said.

"It is," Adam replied with a nod, "I hear about him all the time at UCSD. We had to read two of his litigations against the Supreme Court and the man is a living genius."

"Maybe," Quinn said, "and he seems to have a weakness for blondes. Now that I need the help thought."

"No, bet you don't," Dave replied, "So, you here alone tonight?"

Quinn nodded. "I took the train in through New York and hooked up with Rachel on our way back down. Set eyes on a couple of cute guys in her apartment building that I can't wait to meet."

"Most of them are gay," Rachel shot back from out of nowhere.

"Says her," Quinn answered confidently.

"Were they always like this?" Adam whispered deftly into Dave's ear. Dave's response was merely to shrug.

Piling plates high, they found their way back to the table with Blaine, Carole, and Burt already eating.

"Thought we'd lost you two for a moment there," Carole said as she buttered a role.

"We were uhhh…"

"Now Carole," Burt said amusedly, "they're young and in love- don't embarrass them."

"No, nothing like that."

"What do you mean nothing like that?" Adam gave a side-eyed glance to his boyfriend as he speared a citrus-zested green bean.

Dave's flustered face set everybody at the table laughing and he shook his head. For a moment, he thought he might have had a panic attack. But the feeling was gone and all he had left to replace them was a heavy sigh. "Don't encourage him. That's all I need to hear when we get back to Mo's."

"Mo's?"

"It's a line dance bar in San Diego."

"A gay line dance bar?" Blaine asked.

"Well now I've heard of everything," Burt smiled and took a sip of champagne.

"Excuse me," Mercedes voice came out of a microphone, followed by a short squeal. Everyone's attention turned to the stage she was standing on, hands behind her back. She smiled widely in response. "Mr. and Mrs. Schuester,, we're all so very happy for you and your wedding planner Kurt insisted I be the one to kick off this boogie down to end all boogie downs. But first, I've got a special surprise just for you. Sorry Kurt, we couldn't let you plan everything." With that, Mercedes gestured out to the crowd. "Santana, would you join me up here please?"

Santana looked around, shrugged as she rose, and walked over to the stage. She gave Mercedes a smile and then whispered something that looked like "What are we doing?"

"Well," Mercedes replied to the microphone, "I thought all of our old friends might enjoy this blast from the past. Let's see if you remember the routine. Hit it!"

With that, the background band leapt to life with trumpets.

_When I was a little girl, I had a rag doll_

_The only doll I've ever owned_

Santana let out an "oh really?" and shook her head as she took her microphone on cue.

_Now I love you just the way I loved that rag doll_

_But only now my love has grown_

_And it gets stronger in every way_

_And it gets deeper let me say_

_And it gets higher day by day_

Adam's voice spoke into Dave's ear. "They're really good."

Dave nodded. He had known they were good, but he had never heard Santana and Mercedes duet before. They were…they were better than good.

_Do I love you, my oh my_

_River deep, mountain high_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

_If I lost you, would I cry?_

_Oh how I love you baby_

_Baby, baby, baby_

As the bass line began for the bridge, Dave saw Santana signal Brittany. Brittany proceeded to grab Mike and they headed to the dance floor, reprising their victorious dance from I've Had The Time of My Life.

_I love you baby like the flower loves the spring_

_And I love you baby like the robin loves to sing_

_And I love you baby like the schoolboy loves his bed_

_And I love you baby_

_River deep and mountain high_

As they began their runs, Adam revised his opinion. "No, they're better than really good."

Dave wasn't responding as much as he was noticing others getting up to dance. They all were acting silly and having a great time. And for once in his life, he wanted to have a great time too, not just sit on the sidelines.

He looked over at Adam. "I…"

Adam nodded. "Go on. I'm not gonna be jealous."

Dave gave Adam a peck on the cheek. "I love you."

"I know, and I love you too you old softie," Adam stated affectionately.

Dave got up, looking around. He found Kurt near the back of the room, confirming something with the head waiter, who was radioing something into his walkie-talkie.

"David? What's wrong?" Kurt asked as the waiter disappeared back into the kitchen.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I owe you a dance, remember?"

"Now?! Dave, I was just making sure…"

"Take a break," he said as he motioned for Kurt to follow to the dance floor.

Kurt shook his head, rolling his eyes and following Dave out to the dance floor. Once there, though, Dave was a bit lost. He swayed to the music, but he wasn't exactly in sync. Kurt looked over at Blaine and waved and Blaine waved back, leaning over to Adam's chair and whispering something into Adam's ear that Adam laughed back about.

"Sorry, I'm really bad at this," Dave said as he tried to get in rhythm. He wasn't quite used to the music.

"Here, try this then," Kurt said as he put his hand on Dave's arm and tried to show Dave to twist. The twist turned out to be a vast improvement, especially when Blaine and Adam cut in.

"We decided it's a law that you can't dance at weddings without being half drunk," Adam said loudly.

"Shut it you. I'm having a good time," Dave teased back, taking Adam by the collar and drawing them closer.

"Good, that's what I want," Adam said with a sparkle in his eye.

_Do I love you_

_My oh my_

_River deep, mountain high_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

_If I lost you_

_Would I cry_

_Oh, how I love you baby_

_Baby, baby, baby_


	48. Century Dave, the Epilogue

"Oh my God, I'm never dancing in these shoes again," Dave said as they got back to the hotel room. The alarm clock on the night stand approached midnight.

"You get used," Adam stated as he landed on the bed, working his way out of his shoes, "to the feeling of your feet being on fire."

"Thanks for that," Dave replied dryly as he sat down next to Adam. Their shoulders touched and Dave elbowed Adam's side. "Hey," he said softly, "thanks for coming with me."

"If the price of admission is getting to see you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, anytime," Adam said as they moved closer into a kiss. "Now I know why you stick with line and shadow dances. I can't wait for you to learn the Armadillo Shuffle."

Dave kissed him slowly, not wanting to lose the fog of happiness that seemed to release his inhibition and pretense. His arm reached around Adam until they were closer, Adam nearly sitting in his lap. He eventually had to break off the kiss to breathe.

"Wow," Adam said, "we've gotta get your friends married off more often."

"Shut it you, I'm having a good time," Dave said as his fingers traced Adam's shoulder and moved to his collarbone, beginning to unbutton his shirt underneath his tie.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Getting ready for bed," Dave said with a suggestive lilt.

"Not yet. Not done with surprises," Adam said as he got up from the bed.

"Oh?" Dave stated, confused.

"Oh," Adam said as he went over the table where their coats were piled. "Didn't you think it was strange that I offered to take the coats?"

"I just thought you thought I was drunk from the way I dance," Dave ventured, "and didn't want them to get dropped in the snow."

"You don't think I don't know what a drunk bear looks like? Please, they'd have to fire me from Thursdays and Saturdays. No. It' was this."

Dave took the white box with black ribbon that Adam gave him from underneath the coats. Dave furrowed his brow and looked up at Adam quizzically. "I thought all the party favors were online for Mr. Schue's wedding."

"It's not a party favor. Blaine told me that Kurt gave it to him to give to me to give to you."

"When?"

"Remember when you went to go get your second piece of cake?"

"Ooh, do you think it's cake?"

"Pretty fancy wrapping for cake. Now open it, the suspense is killing me."

Dave unwrapped the present carefully, taking the knot out of the bow slowly. He wondered what the present was. There was a note card on top of the tissue paper and he read it in Kurt's handwriting: **For the boy who has everything he ever wanted.**

"Well?"

"It's from Kurt," Dave replied as he dug around in the tissue paper, "what the-"

"It's a shirt," Adam replied as Dave held up a 3x white shirt.

"Not just any shirt," Dave stated as he looked at the writing on front. He turned it around so Adam could see.

"Likes Boys. I don't get it."

Dave set the shirt down in the box and sighed. He looked up at Adam, but when no memory blinded him with pain, he thought he might as well tell his boyfriend. "It's from this week that Kurt came back to McKinley. He had transferred to another school because I had threatened to kill him. I wasn't out yet. He came back because Santana got me to agree to join her anti-bullying club and that we'd be each other's beards. It's really complicated, I know. But we were kids. Anyways, I did and he came back. And they did Born This Way, you know? The Lady Gaga song? And Santana and I sat in the audience, you know, cause we were still not- ready. And I guess Kurt wanted me to have a shirt."

"Wow," Adam replied with widening eyes, "You weren't kidding then about that invisible barrier thing. That's a lot to take in, although it kind of makes everything make a lot more sense now. But 3x is kinda big for Kurt to wear."

Dave shook his head. "I don't think it's his shirt. I think this one was meant for me."

"What are you supposed to do with it? I think it's cute and all but…"

"I…well, I assume Kurt had a reason. I just don't know what it is. You think I should text him?"

Adam nodded and Dave grabbed his phone from his pants pocket.

**Dave**: Hey Kurt

**Dave**: What's with the party favor?

**Kurt**: Oh good, you got it

**Dave**: Yeah

**Dave**: But what am I supposed to do with it?

**Kurt**: I can't tell you

**Kurt**: But you'll figure it out

**Dave**: ….

**Kurt**: Just think about it, real hard

**Kurt**: What has this whole night been about for you

**Kurt** and **Dave**: Redemption

**Kurt**: By the way, thank you for the dance

**Kurt**: It was lovely

**Dave**: It was not

**Kurt**: You know something, super Dave?

**Kurt**: You never give yourself enough credit

**Dave**: Yeah, but what am I supposed to do about the shirt?

**Kurt**: (no answer)

Dave furrowed his brow. "Well, that was unhelpful."

"What did he say?"

Dave sighed. "That I would know what to do. That I don't give myself enough credit."

Adam nodded, crossing his arms. "Well that's something he and I both agree on. What's your instinct telling you?"

Dave picked up the tee shirt from the box. "I don't think…I'm probably crazy…Adam…I think it means I'm supposed to go to McKinley tonight."

"Your old high school? At midnight?"

Dave nodded. "Told you it sounds crazy."

Adam chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I think it sounds…perfect."

_Outside my house is a cactus plant_

_They call the century tree_

Kurt sat at the piano and played while Blaine looked on, leaning in to watch his boyfriend play and to wait for his duet line. Dave had shown up at the school and seen the lone car in the lot. He'd gone around, trying to figure out and continuing to get no response while texting Kurt. He was beginning to doubt that this was what Kurt had in mind when he saw it at the back ramp near the cafeteria. A door with a brick lodged in the bottom. He saw headlights and rushed inside so he wouldn't get in too much trouble. He held the shirt in his hands, though he had at least changed back into his sneakers and lost his dress tie.

_Only once in a hundred years_

_It flowers gracefully_

_And you never know when it will bloom_

He couldn't find Kurt so he took to wandering the lit hallways. He ended up in front of his old locker. He tried his combo for kicks but found it wouldn't open for him. The lock seemed the same and he could see his stuff in there- as silly as that sounded in his own head, books and magazines stacked and his little white board with the play of the week on it, his route outlined in red erase marker with an arrow point at the end.

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

Finn and Rachel were with Kurt and Blaine now, Finn having picked up the drum sticks and sat down to beat out the rhythm while Rachel leaned in beside him.

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

Rachel's voice fit with Blaine's nearly perfectly. She waved at him and he smiled.

_Clementine Hunter was 54 before she packed up her paint_

Puck began to sing as he made his way onto the stage, over to his old red electric. He hadn't picked up an electric guitar since he had left for LA, afraid he'd never put it down again. And then he sang with Sam, who was right behind on his acoustic, Rory in tow.

_Old Uncle Taylor was 81 when he rode his bike across the plain of China_

_And the sun was shining on that day_

_Just like today_

Dave was starting to get exasperated. Man, he thought to himself, was this school always so big? He had visited all his favorite old haunts. The gym, underneath the bleachers, hell-even his old homeroom with that big solar system model hanging from the ceiling. There had been nothing. And it couldn't have been the choir room, the place had been dark and locked, which he had found odd.

He had thought that he had heard someone chuckle and walk down one of the hallways and he had turned to follow their sneakers, never quite catching up. He was so glad he had changed out of his dance shoes and death and back into his regular shoes.

As he got closer, he heard it. Music. From the April Rhodes Civic Auditorium. He swore he was wrong. He knew he had to be wrong. But he wasn't.

Unique's voice came next as she sat down on a prop on the stage, folding her legs.

_He didn't know how to tell her for over thirty years_

_He kept locked up inside himself_

_And no one saw the tears_

Mercedes came up behind Unique, giving her a squeeze on her shoulder and a huge smile.

_And then she went away_

_And he woke up that day_

Santana and Brittany came in, hand and hand, from a side door. Lauren and this little girl that Dave hadn't been introduce to at the wedding wearing pink sunglasses gathered by the piano. Brittany sang as she and Santana raced up the stairs.

_Now he brings roses to his sweetheart_

_She lives most anywhere_

Quinn walked up from backstage daintily, squeezing Mercedes' hand

_He sees someone suffering_

_He knows that despair_

Chimes went off in the distance as Brad entered to take over piano duties from Kurt, who blew some rose petals in his pocket for Quinn to twirl under.

Tina smiled as she entered with Matt in tow, who looked down before he sang.

_He offers them a rose_

_And some quiet prose_

Artie came in, wheeling himself to the free spot between Sam and Puck as Tina plucked out a few notes.

_About dancing in a shimmering ballroom_

Kurt looked up, seeing Dave holding his shirt at the back of the open auditorium door, looking terribly confused and self conscious all at the same time.

_Because you never know when they will bloom_

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

What am I doing here? Dave thought. It's late. I should be at my hotel room with Adam getting some sleep or making out or something. This is stupid. I've already had my reunion. They don't have to make me feel like I was ever a part of this.

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

They all look like they're having such a good time though, they always did. But it's not like I have anything to prove. I've already done my time on stage.

But then he saw Kurt, heading down from the stage and out to see him.

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

"Your turn. Get up here. You're part of the McKinley High Glee club too."

Dave shook his head. "Not really. I mean, this shirt is cute and all but I'm still not that guy Kurt."

"You're more that guy now than you ever were. Haven't you figured it out? Glee was never about us singing. Come on."

Kurt extended his hand to Dave. Dave hesitated, sighing and then looking down at his shirt. "No, man. This is your family. And in some ways, yeah, sure, mine too. But I don't live here anymore."

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

"Neither do I. I graduated. I just got a job offer to work for vogue in Men's Fashion. Finn's gone into the military and Mercedes and Santana both have beautiful lives. All thanks to Glee. And so do you." Kurt took a step back. "But I won't force you. I just thought…maybe this once, for old time's sake. Hey, it can't be any worse than being John the Baptist, can it?"

Kurt turned back toward the stage, walking quickly back up to his family, joining Blaine to sing the chorus and refrain again. But every time they sang it became louder, more up-tempo. And the guy on the piano wasn't the least bit surprised, keeping up with them as well.

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

Dave looked back down at his shirt again. How many chances would he have to do this? He hadn't ever sung with them, not even for the Zombies song. Not even for Thriller, he'd just done dancing. And he'd loved that.

"What the hell," he said to himself as he slipped the shirt on, "you only live once, right?"

_Hey!_

He called out as he ran for stage, bolting on and ending up somewhere between Blaine and Mercedes.

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

Unique and Mercedes did some wonderful belting variations of the last two lines interspersed between the rest of them singing and it built up to an impossible climax.

_Hey!_

_Do you wanna come out and play the game?_

_It's never too late_

It ended too soon for Dave's liking and he found himself standing there stunned and people hugged him and others laughed.

"No, that was great!"

"I had my doubts, Kurt, dude…"

"Oh God, how long as it been since we've done that together."

"Matt, we needed you at regionals so bad that one year…."

"Oh my God, no! Do you remember that green room fight we had?"

"I thought we weren't talking about that."

Dave looked around as they reminisced and then he heard someone suggest Dennys. And there was general approval. People began to filter back towards their cars and Dave started to watch them go until Kurt came over to him, giving his side a little nudge.

"Well," Kurt said with a smile on his face. "What did you think?"

"I don't know. What was it?"

"Century Plant. From the indie musical movie Camp. I thought of you when I picked it."

"You did?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah."

"You coming to Dennys?" Finn butted in between them.

"Sure," Kurt said.

"Well, hurry up," Puck stated as he put back the cherry red electric. "I don't want to hear Santana bitch about having to wait for onion rings again."

"When have I ever bitched about onion rings?"

"Well, there was that one time," Brittany countered as they exited the same way they had entered, from their favorite side door.

Blaine nodded at Kurt and Dave. "I'm gonna go get the car warmed up. Plenty of space with Mercedes and me in the suv, Dave." Dave simply nodded as he linked Mercedes' arm in his own. "Shall we?"

"How could I resist?"

Dave turned to face Kurt, wanting to compliment him in person rather than over the phone. "You did a great job with the wedding. And you're gonna be great at Vogue."

"You think? I'm a little nervous actually."

"No. You'll never not be great. I'm the one who screwed up."

"Now, David. I'm surprised at you. You've started turning into Superman and you still think you're Clark Kent. You're different. Just look at who you brought to the wedding."

"I'm gonna miss you, Kurt. Phone calls aren't the same."

"Well, we'll throw me into the Skype deal, okay? We can eat awful cold breakfast cereals together and talk about the movies you still need to see and how work is and all that. But, I warn you, I can be testy too early in the day."

Dave chuckled warmly. "I think I can handle it. Did you want to get going? I bet Blaine's waiting for you."

"He can wait a minute. I just wanted to say, Dave Karofsky," he began as he led Dave to the end of the stage, where they sat down with their legs hanging over the side, "how incredibly, immensely, wonderfully proud I am of who you are now."

"That's a lot of adjectives to live up to."

"And you do. You're doing amazing things. I just knew somehow when you told me about the Trevor Project that it was what you had been looking for your whole life."

"You think?"

"More so than when you wanted to be a sportscaster? That's what you said in the hospital."

Dave gave a half shrug/half wince, although no over surge of feelings came. He was starting to get used to the idea that the panic attacks might actually be over. "We were kids then. Hey, what about you? I never got to ask you about where you wanted to be."

"Oh Dave. You old softie."

"No, no. I did mine. I'll even do one again. But you have to go first this time. Close your eyes and tell me what you see."

Kurt rolled his eyes and then complied, turning his head at a little angle. "I see…New York. Central Park in the middle of a snowy winter and a golden retriever being walked by me and Blaine. He's got a vintage peacoat on, navy blue, and he's secretly planned a proposal for us since its our five year anniversary. I'm preparing for a movie to Paris to work at the International Vogue office and he's just accepted a musical teaching position there as well. We're moving up in the world. And then all of our friends pop out of…"

Kurt stopped for a moment to take a breath and dab a tear from his eyes. "Wow. Not expecting that."

"Was good though, right? I hope I get to be there in Central Park."

"Are you kidding? You'd better be. Now it's your turn."

Dave shook out his shoulders, shut his eyes, and took a breath. "Okay. Well, it's late spring in San Diego and Adam and I are looking at houses in Steven's neighborhood. We see one with a shed in the back for all the tools we're gonna need to build the treehouse for the twins we just adopted. The paperwork went through yesterday and I celebrated by buying a band saw. There's a knock on the door and somehow you've gotten us a basket of flowers and fresh fruit in congratulations before anyone else. I took Mr. Plender's job at the Trevor Project but still go out a couple of times a month to different high schools. And Andrew Denns comes in for a part time job one day and I tell him yes."

It was Dave's turn to wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Well, that sounds pretty good to me too."

"It sounds…It sounds awesome, Kurt. Do you think it could really be what happens?"

"David, you are proof that anything is possible and I am willing to believe that what we have just said is going to happen, like we've spoken it into the universe."

Blaine's voice called from the back of the auditorium. "Hey, you guys ready to go?"

"We're ready," Kurt called out and then he looked at Dave. "Aren't we?"

Dave nodded, giving Kurt a smile. "I'd say so."

He reached out his hand after he dropped and Kurt took it so he could get down off the stage. "My, so chivalrous."

"I learned from the best. Say, do you think they still make those god awful pancakes at the Dennys?"

"Only one way to find out," Kurt answer in return and they went to join Blaine at the exit of the auditorium.


End file.
